Confused Torment
by iveyw
Summary: A love triangle centered around female Hawke, depicted through the alternating views of Hawke, Fenris, Anders and Isabela. *Rated M for explicit detail*
1. Part 1 Hawke

**HAWKE**

Hawke watched expressions of anger and pain course through his eyes, as they restlessly flitted around the room in disdain. In the three years that she had come to know him, she had never seen Fenris this way—searching for stability over his emotions. He had always acted with complete caution and a demeanor of control that she had admired. Even amidst their most heated debates, over magic and mage's rights, he would always remain collected while he voiced his opinions. His body was tensing, his hands balled into fists; he was pacing anxiously back and forth. She could tell that he was struggling to maintain his composure.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She half whispered.

Fenris halted and turned towards her, his green eyes boring deep into hers with obvious rage. "No, I don't want to talk about it!" he snapped. "This could be a trap! Danarius could have sent Hadriana here to tell me about this _sister_. Even if he didn't, trying to find her would still be suicide. Danarius has to know about her and has to know that Hadriana knows!" Fenris raised his blood soaked fist to eye level, dropping his voice an octave lower as he continued. "...but all that matters is that I finally got to crush this bitch's heart! May she rot, and all other mages with her!"

Fenris turned his back to her and, without thinking, she reached out her right arm, caught him mid stride, and gently placed her fingertips upon his left shoulder. She was shocked by the magnitude of excitement that went coursing through her fingers as she touched him, but the feeling was quickly replaced with confusion. His reaction, a quick jerk of his left shoulder to release her touch, threw her off balance. Before she had time to move past his rejection and gather her thoughts, his lips parted and uttered, with lashing severity, "Don't comfort me!"

She watched, addled, as he inhaled deeply and shifted his eyes from hers to the ground, where Hadriana's body lay limp and lifeless. The muscles in his forearms pulsated as he agitatedly dug his fingers into his palms. Drops of blood began to pool on the ground from his right fist; the fist that he had used to tear Hadriana's heart from her chest, mere moments earlier. As he exhaled, his eyes moved back to hers with narrowed intensity. Her breath caught in her chest with recognition of the hostility that flashed behind them.

"You saw what was done here. There's always going to be some reason, some excuse why mages need to do this; even if I found my sister, who knows what the Magister's have done to her!" He clenched his jaw and in a much steadier tone, questioned her with finality. "What does magic touch that it doesn't spoil?"

She struggled to keep her face from betraying the sting of his words that were, clearly, directed at her. Fenris shifted his eyes from hers, to the ground. He inhaled deeply and then exhaled slowly, releasing all tension in his body. He rounded his shoulders and hung his head as he mumbled, "I… need to go." He then turned his back to the group, and exited through the door of the cavern.

It was Anders's voice that broke the silence. "And here I've always been under the impression that he was our biggest fan!" he jested. "This is crushing..." he continued, with amused accentuated sarcasm."_However_ will I keep from crying into my pillow tonight?"

She remained motionless, her eyes transfixed upon the door that Fenris had just passed through. Her mind was racing through all that had just transpired. She was confused and hurt. In the past three years, since they had met, she and Fenris had grown quite close. They had been through a lot together. Most recently, they had been spending many nights alone, immersed in conversation, wine, and books, as she taught him how to read (a privilege that his former master, Danarius, had not allowed of his pet slave).

Titan (her Mabari war hound), bounded to her right side and nudged his head under her dangling finger tips. Without releasing her gaze upon the door and still deep in thought, she subconsciously scratched his head and massaged around his ear. It had only been a few days, since Fenris had opened up to her about his past and how he had escaped from Danarius. He had told her things, that night, which he had never told anyone else. She cared about him and her feelings for him had been quickly escalating into something more than friendship. Their daily exchanges had become a constant foreplay with secret flirtations and carefully exchanged long glances. She had thought, or perhaps hoped, that his feelings towards her were the same. Merrill sashayed to her side, opposite of Titan, and intertwined her fingers within Hawke's as she leaned in, resting her head against her shoulder.

Anders was still musing to himself, when he added with a contemptible smirk upon his face. "You would _think_ that he would remember that he hates all mages, _before_ entering a dank and dark cavern with three of them..."

When she didn't offer more than a quick glance in his direction, he drew silent and suddenly aware of her distracted fixation on the door. Anders moved in front of her, blocking her view and breaking her trance, causing her eyes to lock with his.

"Aven?" he softly whispered. Her eyes flickered at his surprising use of her first name. With tender concern in his tone, he continued, "He'll be fine; he just needs to cool off. Come on, let's get out of here."

(Fenris, Anders, Merrill and *some* dialogue, © Bioware)


	2. Part 2 Fenris

**FENRIS**

Fenris walked morosely forward, thoughtlessly scanning the ground in front of him as he replayed in his mind what had just transpired. He kicked at a random pebble, on the sandy path before him, as he attempted to make sense of the complexity of his emotions; his mind was spinning. He had just killed Hadriana, at last! She used to torment him when he was a slave. She would ridicule him, deny his meals, and relentlessly hound his sleep. He was glad that she was dead. He didn't care that he had gone against his word to spare her life once she had divulged the information about his sister; he couldn't stand the thought of her continuing to breathe. Watching the light in her eyes go out, as he had plucked her heart from her chest, had been exhilarating. Only, the rush had dissipated within seconds, whereas the hatred still remained. Unquenchable anger was still boiling inside of him, consuming every fiber of his being; the peace that he had hoped and longed for, still had not come.

The path that he was on, branched off on to the main road that would take him back to Kirkwall. A few feet down the path, he could hear the lapping sound of flowing water. He detoured off of the sand, in front of him, in search of it. He found a small stream and followed the currents' opposite direction, determined to find its source. The sound of the running water helped sooth his disquieted mind.

He was a ways off of the path, when he stumbled upon a meadow nestled deep inside the crevices of a cliff side. It was lush and green with soft tall grass, vibrant flowers, and several large tree's that acted as a canopy against the sun's rays. At the mouth of the cliff side, was a large spring that branched out into two, smaller, trickling streams; one of which had led him there. He was right behind the ocean. He could vaguely hear the waves crashing against the opposite side of the cliff. The ethereal sounds of this haven, washed over him like a gentle embrace.

He knelt down beside the crystal spring, intending to drink in its enticing cool and crisp water, but as he cupped his hands together, he paused. His right hand was a deep maroon of dry, encrusted blood. He stood and moved to the entrance of the outflowing stream on his right, bent down again, and submerged his arm into the cool liquid. He watched as Hadriana's blood washed off of his glove and swirled into the clear water of the spring. His eyes followed the strands of red as the tugging current pulled them into the smaller stream beside him, creating distance and washing away the stains of his day.

He looked into his own reflection, cast back at him from the glassy top of the spring water, he appeared drawn and tired. There were deep, dark circles around his eyes; he had slept so little for so long. He removed his gloves and set them in the smaller stream, allowing the flow of water to wash away any other impurities and then cupped his bare hands together and drank from the spring. Within the ripples that he had created, he could see his own green eyes peering back at him. All at once, his mind flashed with Hawke's deep blue eyes filled with hurt and pain. She had only allowed it to show for a split second, but it had been long enough to be branded upon his mind, permanently. He sighed and splashed water onto his face, hoping that the coldness would drive away the knowledge of the pain that he had just caused her. He ran the refreshing water through his white hair, pushing it back away from his forehead, as he struggled against the images of her.

He fell backwards onto the plush cushion of the soft grass beneath him and watched above as the leaves danced within the breeze, permitting the sun's rays to peek through pockets of the canopy's shade. He allowed the sporadic rays of light to encompass him in warmth and comfort as he pleaded with his exhaustion to scourge the images that were filling his mind, replaying his last conversation with Hawke over and over. He couldn't make sense as to why he had spoken to her that way. Yes, she was a mage, but she was different. She was strong and wielded her magic exceptionally well! She was soft, kind, and a devoted friend. He had come to care about her a great deal. She was the only person that he had ever dared to grow close to; he trusted her.

He closed his eyes and thought of the day that she had brought him _The Book of Shartan_ (It was written by an elven slave that had helped Andraste free many slaves). He had been caught off guard by the gift and embarrassed to reveal that he did not know how to read. He could still vividly recall the smile in her eyes, and the flicker of light skittering across the deep blue of her iris as she had said, "It's never too late to learn, Fenris." From that night on, they had begun to spend nearly every evening together. Once he had started to really progress, they would talk more than they would read. He loved listening to her voice and watching as her eyes would sparkle when she was really excited about something. He took great pleasure when she would read, it gave him a chance to follow her full red lips and watch them lift in the corners as she smiled; her smile was contagious.

He had not slept well in years, but since they had started spending their evenings together, he had hardly slept at all. He would lay awake isolating the moments of lingering glances; the nights when wine had helped them to exchange bolder flirtatious confessions. He had begun fantasizing about her, wondering what it would be like to touch her soft pale skin, and press his lips against her own. Countless times, he had mentally undressed her and envisioned what it would be like to have her body writhing against his while he was deep inside of her. The warmth of the sun engulfed him and his eyes became increasingly heavy. He relaxed into the enveloping softness of the grass, which cradled his body, allowing his exhausted mind to succumb to the trickling rhythm of the water, and immediately fell into a much needed, peaceful slumber, dreaming of her.

(Fenris, Hadriana and *some* dialogue, © Bioware)


	3. Part 3 Anders

**ANDERS**

Anders watched her from behind, as Hawke scanned the path ahead. He knew that she was hoping, by chance, that Fenris was waiting for them. Titan seemed aware of it too. He went from obediently trotting at her side, to running around her in circles. She was so focused on searching, that she nearly tripped over him. If he hadn't grabbed onto her shoulder and halted her, she would have.

"Oh...Titan!" she exclaimed, both surprised and irritated. She bent down and ruffled Titan's mane, as he lapped kisses upon her face. "What is it boy, am I walking too slowly?" she asked, in her affectionate coddling tone.

Even he knew that Titan was merely trying to distract her. He didn't know much about dogs, but he had watched Titan enough to know how in tune he always seemed to be with Hawke's moods and actions.

Hawke began kneading behind both of Titan's ears, turned her head to the left, and smiled up at him. "Oh, and thanks Anders!" She added as she took Titan's face into her palms. "If it wasn't for _this_ guy…" she said in a mocking disciplinary tone. Titan stopped panting long enough to lick her chin, before she stood back up and turned back towards him. "…and your timely intervention, I would be face down in the dirt." she added, playfully.

He was completely taken back by the sparkle in her eyes as she smiled back at him. He was at a loss of words; she hadn't smiled at all since before the commotion in the cavern. He was so caught up in her beauty, that he could barely manage a small nod in acknowledgement. Hawke turned forward and continued walking and he watched as Merrill skipped off of the path, plucked a white flower from the hillside, and then skipped back to Hawke's side. She placed the flower behind Hawke's ear and looped her arm within Hawke's. He assumed that it was more for stability than anything, since Merrill's head went immediately back as she gazed into the sky.

"Oh, Hawke, look; I've found a tree!" Merrill exclaimed.

He watched as Hawke paused long enough to gaze up into the clouds. "I… don't see it, Merrill." she said, squinting into the clouds as she slowly moved forward.

"Well, you kind of have to tilt your head like this, and then turn it this way." Merrill continued as she demonstrated.

He followed Merrill's directions with Hawke, and smirked. What he saw in the cloud wasn't a tree. In fact, it looked like a perfect replica of the male anatomy. He watched as Hawke searched the sky, her forehead creased in confusion.

Suddenly, she halted and her eyes grew wide in astonishment. "Maker's Breath!" she exclaimed.

He nearly burst out laughing, while Merrill lit up.

"Did you find it?"

"Yes, I definitely found… _it_." Hawke conceded, as she gaped into the sky. "I haven't seen many tree's with a gap in the—middle." Hawke continued, baffled.

He had to use all of his resolve to choke back his laughter.

"Yes, well I like to think that there was a thunderstorm that hit that poor tree. You see, it must have caught fire and now there's that sad little gap in its plushy ..."

"For the love of Andraste, it's a cloud!" he proclaimed, cutting her off. He knew that Merrill's explanation would've been some long ridiculous story and he had to put a stop to it, immediately.

"_Someone's_ a grumpy abomination today!" Merrill stated in her usual chipper tone. "Actually, you are always grumpy." she continued, before gazing back up into the clouds and humming a Dalish tune to herself.

He clenched his jaw; he hated when she called him that. She, after all, was the one making deals with demons and using her own blood to pay the price. Hawke shot him a sympathetic look over her shoulder; her blue eyes pulled him in and helped sooth his escalating irritation. As Hawke faced forward again, he found himself drawn into her golden red hair; it was always tied back into a ponytail. He watched as it swayed back and forth, in unison with her hips, and he couldn't help but think about the first time that he had seen it down, only a few nights prior...

_He had watched anxiously as Bodahn had opened the door to the den. He had always looked forward to any excuse to see Hawke, but the feeling had quickly turned to disappointment as he had beheld Fenris seated beside her on the ground, next to the fireplace. They had been so close, nearly touching. She had been reading out loud, while Fenris had been watching her lips. It had seemed so intimate and it had bothered him. They had both been so immersed, that they had not even heard as him and Hawke's butler had entered the room. It wasn't until Bodahn had cleared his throat, that they had both looked up_.

"Mistress Hawke, you have another visitor." Bodahn announced.

Fenris's eyes narrowed disdainfully back at him, while Hawke's had eyes lit up in surprise.

"Hawke..." The words barely left his lips before Fenris got up and started walking towards the door.

"Are you leaving, Fenris?" Hawke asked in a confused tone, sadness dimming her bright eyes.

Fenris looked over his shoulder back at her. "I will see you tomorrow." he said, softly.

He had never heard Fenris talk with such endearment to anyone, it annoyed him. He watched as Fenris turned his head forward again and continued walking, purposefully making eye contact with him, as he spoke. "Whenever you need me, Hawke."

He watched as Hawke's lips lifted into a smile. Her eyes followed Fenris, until he was out of view, and then she stood and moved towards him.

"I need to ask a favor." he continued.

"Sure, what is it Anders?"

"I was hoping that I could get my share from the items that we found today?" he asked, uncomfortably.

"Oh!" Hawke exclaimed, with remembrance. "I completely forgot; I am so sorry!"

"No, it's fine! Normally I wouldn't ask, but I was assisting in getting a young mage and his family out of Kirkwall tonight, when the boy collapsed. I had no choice but to take him back to my clinic. He wasn't ill, well not in the way that I had presumed—he was famished. His family finally confessed that they had not eaten in days", he explained.

Hawke looked back at him in distress. "That's… horrible." she said as her forehead wrinkled and her eyebrows squished together sympathetically. "Here" she cut off, as she made her way to a jar on top of her writing desk. She pulled five gold sovereigns from it and placed it into Anders palm as she continued, "Give this to them".

"That's..." before he could finish, Hawke cut in.

"Oh! No, it's not your cut, just give that to them, but don't say it's from me, say that it's from you."

He fumbled over his words. "That's not—wait; No! I'm not going to take the credit for your generosity!"

Hawke's cheeks went pink with embarrassment. "Please don't—It's not..." she sighed, "Just tell them that another mage wanted to help them." she continued, uncomfortably. Hawke moved hastily to the writing desk. "Here, let me write a note to Varric to come and get the loot and find buyers as quickly as possible. I'll have Bodahn take it to him right away."

He watched as she bent over the table and scribbled onto a piece of parchment. She was wearing her black silk robe that stopped right above her knees. As she leaned over the desk, it lifted in the back revealing more of her long, lean, legs and barely covering the curve of her perfectly rounded backside. Her long hair was down and draped over the right side of her shoulder; the fire beside them, seemed to illuminate the spectrum of colors in her golden red hair as the lights reflection danced across the strands of red, mesmerizing him. In three years, he had never seen it completely down before. He found himself fantasizing about embracing her from behind and tenderly kissing the left side of her beautifully exposed neck, while he ran his fingers through her soft, golden locks. He had to turn from her, in order to clear his head and continue his train of thought.

"Hawke you don't have to do that..."

Before he had the chance to finish, she absentmindedly cut him off. "Yes, I do", she said as she remained focused on what she was writing. "I'm sure that Isabela is on her last pint right now and cursing me under her breath as we speak."

He smiled with a sideways nod of submission; she had him there. As Hawke finished her note, she straightened her back and as she turned, he saw that her robe had slightly opened a bit in the front, revealing part of her underclothing. It gave him a glimpse at the voluptuous roundness of her breasts, pushed together by her bra. She passed him hurriedly, and when she returned, she had already readjusted her robe.

"Was there anything else that you wanted, Anders?" she asked, with a sweet smile upon her face.

He, so badly, wanted to tell her how beautiful that she looked; how kind, generous and amazing that she was. He wanted to be bold and spontaneously kiss her plump, enticing lips while whispering sweetly into her ear about how much he wanted her. He wished he could find the strength to express just how much he had always longed for her; that he had hated himself for ever feeling the need to create distance between them. Suddenly, his thoughts abruptly changed. _I need to get back to that family. I can't have my mind caught up in lust and desire. I have a responsibility to that young mage**.**_

"No, that was all." he responded, half-heartedly. "I had better get back to the boy. Thank you, Hawke." She smiled back at him and followed him to the door. As the door opened, he hesitated and then added, "Let me know _whenever_ you need me."

_As he had made his way back to the clinic that day, he had pondered upon himself and Justice. It was true that they were one now, but in situations, such as what had transpired between him and Hawke, he had been completely aware of which thoughts had been Justice's and which thoughts had been his own._

Isabela and Varric's boisterous greetings, in The Hanged Man, snapped him back to the present. He sat opposite of Hawke at the table, and watched as she struggled to smile politely while nursing her one pint of beer and anxiously looking up every time that the entrance door to the pub opened. Isabela and Varric seemed oblivious that Hawke wasn't herself; they laughed at each other's jokes while Merrill tried her best to keep up with them. He hated seeing her this way. He hated Fenris (even more so now for being such a selfish git and hurting Hawke) but what he loathed the most, was the knowledge that Hawke actually had feelings for Fenris.

(Anders/Justice, Merrill, and Fenris © Bioware)


	4. Part 4 Hawke

**HAWKE**

Hawke peered into her mug of ale, her fingers tracing marks into the precipitation that the coldness, of the liquid inside, had created. She did her best to smile at Isabela's and Varric's back and forth banter but she kept getting lost in her thoughts, replaying the things that Fenris had said to her. As hurtful as his actions and words had been, she knew that he had been struggling with _something_. She couldn't stop worrying about him. The Wounded Coast was littered with bands of thieves as well as Tal-Vashoth. Fenris was a very skilled warrior, and the special talents that he had acquired from his lyrium tattoos (such as passing his fist through flesh, seamlessly, like a ghost) definitely made him unlike any other warrior. However, the thought of him alone against a half a dozen, or more, is exactly what kept her mind far from at ease.

As if reading her thoughts, Isabela suddenly asked, "Where's Fenris?"

"Who knows?" Anders replied, callously, as he tipped his mug back and finished off the rest of his ale.

"Wait, I thought that he was with you today." Isabela questioned, while peering in confusion at Hawke.

"He was very mean to Hawke today" Merrill stated, matter-of-factly. "Actually, he's always mean, but he was especially mean today." She continued, squinting into her mug as if she were searching for something.

"What happened, Kitten?" Isabela asked, uncharacteristically concerned.

Anders spoke before Merrill had a chance to open her mouth. "Oh, you know, just the usual. We helped him kill his former master's apprentice and in return he reminded us of how we should all be dead for being purposefully born a mage." He answered, with casual sarcasm.

"Yes, but he actually looked at Hawke when he said _that_." Merrill continued, shaking her head, while obliviously unaware of how it stung her.

She could feel Isabela's eyes penetrating into her and avoided her by peering into the golden, frothy, liquid inside of her glass. "Hawke, is that still your first drink?"

She looked up from her mug and gaped, questioningly, back at Isabela before re-examining her mug. "Umm, yes… I suppose it is". Hawke realized.

"Ok, you need to finish that, immediately" Isabela demanded, as she turned in her chair and flagged down the bartender. "Barkeep, another round for my friends!" she shouted across the room.

She tipped her ale back and finished the nearly full pint, before taking another breath.

"Yes, that's what I'm talking about!" Isabela praised, with a wink.

She stood up and placed some sovereigns down on the table in front of her. "Next round is on me." she said, as she gathered her things.

"But, you've only had one drink! Stay, let's get _druuunk_!" Isabela pleaded, menacingly.

"Thanks, but I'm just really tired... It's been a long day." Hawke replied with a half-smile.

Isabela crossed her arms and pouted with displeasure.

"Let her be, Rivaini, there's always tomorrow." Varric added, as he discreetly winked back up at Hawke.

"Wait, Hawke, I can walk you home." Anders said as he began to stand.

"No, Anders, stay. I'll be fine. I've only had one drink and Titan is right outside waiting for me. Besides, it's quite a ways out of your way." she said as she turned towards the door.

"I don't mind..."

She cut Anders off as she looked over her shoulder and replied back at him with a smile. "No, stay, enjoy some more drinks with everyone! Oh, and thanks for your help today." She then shifted her gaze to Merrill, "You too Merrill!" Merrill beamed back at her and she watched as Anders reluctantly sat down. She could tell that he was worried about her and it warmed her heart. She loved seeing this side of him. It reminded her of the first year that they had met. As two apostate mage's, they had become very close. If he had not been with her during the deep road's expedition, then Carver would be dead today, instead of alive and well with the Grey Wardens. However, for the past three years, Anders had been creating more and more distance between them; she rarely saw him anymore. As she reached for the door, an arm reached out in front of her and pushed the door out before her. She turned to the side to see Anders grinning back at her.

"I'm not taking _No_ for an answer." He said, as his golden brown eyes gazed, smiling into hers. "You've had a rough day, let me just walk you home." he added with sincerity.

She smiled back at him and caved in. "Alright, thank you."

Anders nodded back at her as Titan excitedly rushed towards her and nuzzled his cheek against her left leg.

"Aww boy, I love you too!" Hawke gushed, as she bent down and kissed Titan's head.

She, Anders, and Titan climbed the steps to Hightown in silence and she couldn't stop thinking about Fenris and worrying as to whether or not he had made it home ok. As the trio approached the entrance to her house she decided, last minute, to take a detour to Fenris's mansion. She knew that if she didn't check in on him, she wouldn't be able to sleep all night.

"Anders—umm, do you mind if we just stop by Fenris's mansion really quick? I just want to make sure that he made it back ok."

She watched as Anders paused and studied her before responding, softly, "Ok".

She knocked at Fenris's door and then turned towards Titan, bent over, and scratched around his neck as she waited. After a minute of no response, she turned towards Anders and he approached the door and knocked; his knocks were much louder. She adjusted her hair and kicked at the rock siding, next to Fenris's doorway, as she waited.

"It doesn't appear as though he's home yet." Anders added, after another minute had passed.

She hesitated, but when no answer came, she began to really worry. Anders must have seen the concern in her face because he then added, "Hawke, I'm sure that he's fine, Fenris can take care of himself. It's also very late, and with the way that he drinks that wine in his cellar, I wouldn't be surprised if he was just passed out, cold."

She wasn't completely convinced, but it was possible. For Anders' sake, she nodded her head and began walking back towards her estate. As she approached the front steps of her door, she turned towards him.

"Thanks so much for insisting on coming with me." She half smiled up at him, "I would invite you in..."

Anders cut her off. "No, get some rest..." He said, grabbing her right hand and cupping it inside of his own. She met his eyes as he continued, "You don't always have to hold the weight of responsibility for everyone. We are here for you. _I_ am here for you... always." Anders said, as he gazed deep into her eyes. She shifted her eyes, uncomfortably away from his, to the ground and Anders squeezed her hand and continued. "I will gather some of the others and we will find Fenris. You just relax, ok?"

She looked back up into the sincerity in his face and smiled back at him as she carefully removed her hand from within his. "Thank you, Anders, you are a wonderful friend."

She opened the door in front of her and then gazed back into Anders' amber eyes, as she slowly closed the door behind her. What had just happened? Hawke could never remember Anders ever touching her so intimately! He had even used her first name, earlier, to draw in her attention (something he had never done before). Then, he had insisted on walking her home, held her hand so gently, and on top of it all, volunteered to search for Fenris; Fenris! Even she knew that the two could not stand each other! Hawke sighed. She was too mentally drained and physically exhausted to try and make sense of anything. She decided to take Anders' advice and relax. As she entered through the entrance hall of her estate, Hawke could hear Bodahn talking with Orana.

_Oh, Maker! Orana!_

She had completely forgotten about the slave girl that she, Fenris, Anders, and Merrill had come upon in the cavern right before finding Hadriana. Orana's father, along with many of Hadriana's other slaves, had been sacrificed for their blood, which Hadriana had done as a last ditch effort to greatly increase her magic, in preparation of Fenris's arrival and whomever might be with him. Hawke had taken pity on the young elven girl; she had been obviously distressed and all alone. When Orana had asked Fenris if he was her new master, Hawke had known immediately that she had to do something for the poor girl. Hawke had told Orana that if she could find her estate in Kirkwall, then she could help her.

_She could still vividly envision Fenris's expression, as he had turned towards her and retorted in confused anger._

"I didn't know that you were in the market for a slave?"

The question had been so full of accusation, that she had found herself completely thrown off guard. "I gave her… a job, Fenris." She replied, dejected. She couldn't believe that he had even posed that question to her. Didn't he not known her better than that?

_That was when Hawke had first noticed a change in him that day. He had seemed to be overly sensitive, agitated, and overwrought about something; she had never seen him that way before._

She made her way into the living room as Bodahn moved towards her. "Ah, you're home! There's a—eleven woman here. She claims that you sent her; I didn't know what to say."

"Yes, Bodahn, I am sorry for not forewarning you. We found her earlier today. Her family had been slaughtered and she was all alone, so I offered her a job here with us." she explained.

"I see..." Bodahn said, lost in his thoughts.

"Where is she, I would like to speak with her."

"Oh, she's cleaning in the den." Bodahn stated, as he gathered his composure. "She's been cleaning ever since she got here, I can't get her to..."

"Take me to her please." she asked, cutting him off. She felt bad for interrupting him, but she was exhausted and just wanted to get things sorted out as soon as possible.

"Yes, of course, Mistress." Bodahn replied to her, politely.

She followed Bodahn to the den, where she found Orana cleaning the fireplace, and sighed. _Well, at least I have someone that will clean the fireplaces._

"Hello, Orana" she said, as Orana turned towards her.

"Oh! Mistress! I've been working hard ever since I got here." Orana exclaimed. "Please… don't hurt me!" she added as she quickly turned back to the fireplace and continued working with agitation.

"No, no—Orana, I'm not going to hurt you! I can see that you have done a wonderful job! Would you please stop working and talk with me for a moment?"

She watched as Orana turned skeptically towards her and excused Bodahn from the room, by nodding at him. As he turned and left, she continued, "Orana, if you are going to stay here, it will be as my servant." she explained, in a gentle tone.

"But... all I've ever known is to be a slave, like Papa and Grandpapa before him." Orana added, confused.

She smiled at her. "I know that this is very different, and not what you are used to, but you are free! You may come and go as you please. I will pay you for your work, and if you would like, it would make me very happy to have you live here with us."

Orana's eyes lit up. "Thank you Mistress, I will work hard for you!" Orana exclaimed with excitement.

She watched as Orana's smile faded and her eyes shifted uncomfortably as she scanned Hawke up and down. "Mistress..." Orana asked sheepishly "May I draw you a bath?"

She widened her smile and half giggled through her response. "Orana, you have read my mind! A bath sounds perfect!"

Orana beamed back at her and scurried off quickly to prepare the bath.

She dismissed Orana from the bathroom, encouraging her to stop working and relax for the rest of the evening. Once Orana was gone, she shed her clothing and cautiously receded into its steaming depths. She slowly relaxed into the liquids hot embrace until her skin had adjusted to the scathing temperature. Once she was fully submerged, she let out an exaggerated sigh and allowed the water to sooth and embraced her aching body. She could hear the sweet melody, from some sort of instrument, drifting up and under the bathroom door and smiled to herself, as she recalled seeing a lute next to the fireplace that Orana had been cleaning. She relaxed deeper into the water as she allowed the gentle music to calm her further.

_Orana plays beautifully!_

She took her time as she ran the wash cloth behind her neck, allowing the hot water to trickle down her back. She slowly continued over her arms and across her chest, enjoying the caressing warmth, as the tension in her body slowly subsided. As she grazed the cloth across her breasts, her nipples hardened with a tingling sensation and she began to think of Fenris, but not of the way things had ended with him that day. She thought of his eyes; they were intense and beautiful. His large, deep, rich, sea green coloring would always pull her in. There was something warm and comforting within those depths, it had always been a struggle to pull away from his gaze; she wished that she could be lost in them now.

As she moved the cloth down her stomach, she envisioned that his fingers were the cloth. She closed her eyes as she moved it from the bridge of her right foot, gliding it up and over the length of her lower leg. She thought of his long lean muscles and wondered what he would look like without his armor on. She continued to slowly inch up and over her knee towards her upper thigh, envisioning what his lyrium tattoos looked like on his naked skin; she longed to trace their designs with her fingertips. As she reached her inner thigh, she imagined what it would feel like to have his tight, lean, muscular body pressed hard against her own.

She was hot, she could barely breath. With a flick of her left wrist, she sent flurries of snow into her bathtub, cooling the temperature of the water as she inched the cloth further down her inner thigh with her right hand. She reached the soft area between her inner thighs and spread her legs further apart, rubbing, slowly, as she imagined Fenris's mouth upon her own, and his fingers gently massaged her there.

"Mistress Hawke?" Bodahn's muffled voice seeped through the door, as he knocked softly.

She bolted upright, surprised, sending water over the sides of the tub.

"Y-Yes, Bodahn?" she stumbled out, as she tried to pull her thoughts together.

"I'm sorry to disturb you Mistress, but you have a visitor".

She wrinkled her forehead in confusion. "A visitor? At this hour?" She asked, perplexed.

"Yes, I'm so sorry, but he is insisting on seeing you."

_He?_

"Who is it, Bodahn?" she added, with curious anticipation.

"It's your elven friend… Fenris, I believe, is his name?"

She shot out of the bath, grabbed her robe, and hurriedly threw it on, barely closing it in the front as she swung the door open.

"Thank you, Bodahn" she gasped, as she walked hurriedly towards the entrance hall.

(Anders, Isabela, Merrill, Varric, Fenris, Bodahn, Orana and *some* dialogue, © Bioware)


	5. Part 5 Fenris

**FENRIS**

Fenris awoke disoriented. It was dark and he could not remember where he was. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He could feel the damp grass beneath his palms as his eyes adjusted. The moon was high in the sky, nearly full, and as he turned to take in his surroundings, he could see its reflection in the spring beside him.

With a jolt, it all came back to him; killing Hadriana, lashing out at Hawke, allowing the magical serenity of this meadow, to lull him into slumber. He couldn't believe how long he had slept. It was late. He had to find Hawke and apologize to her. He stood up and found his way back to the main path that led back to Kirkwall. He had no clue what time it was, but he _had_ to see Hawke. The urgency to find her, felt overwhelming. He went from a fast stride to running; her blue eyes flashing back at him in pain, was all that he could think about. As he entered the gates of Kirkwall, he turned and took the path that led to Lowtown. He bolted into The Hanged Man and looked around.

"Fenris!" Isabela shouted across the room.

He turned towards Isabela and then shifted his eyes from her, searching the table for Hawke. "Where's Hawke?" He asked as he walked towards the table, ignoring Isabela's greeting.

"Nice to see you too." Isabela added sarcastically, rolling her eyes as she tipped her mug back.

Merrill peered up at him with what, he assumed, was meant to be a dirty look. She just looked annoyingly pouty to him.

"Sit down, have a drink with us, I haven't seen my favorite broody elf all day!" Isabela invited, flirtatiously, as she winked at him and patted the chair beside her.

"Yeah, stay elf; next drink is on me." Varric added.

"I don't have time for this. Answer my question, where is she?" he asked, impatiently.

"Who, Fenris?" Merrill added, flippantly.

His eyes darted to Merrill's, penetrating into hers, viewing with satisfaction as her resolve weakened and her eyes shifted down into the mug in front of her.

Varric pulled his attention back to him. "She went home, about an hour ago, elf." Fenris turned abruptly away from them, and as he headed back towards the door, he heard Varric mumble under his breath. "_Someone_, is especially broody tonight..."

He pushed the door out in front of him with force, nearly missing Anders as he was about to enter. He watched as Anders' expressions went from surprised irritation, recognition, and then somber disappointment, as he moved past Fenris, without a word, and into the bar. Fenris paused, confused, and then brushed it off. He didn't have time to wonder or even care what was going on with that weak and annoying, idiot, mage. He hurried towards Hightown and knocked swiftly on Hawke's door and Bodahn answered, surprised.

"I apologize for the hour, but it is of great importance that I speak with Hawke." he explained.

Bodahn nodded and ushered him into the entrance hall. He sat down on one of the benches, suddenly aware that he had no idea what he was going to say to Hawke. All he knew, is that he had to, somehow, make it right between them again. He peered down at his feet, trying to think of what to say, when he heard her voice.

"Fenris?"

He looked up at her. Her hair was wet and slicked back and her robe looked disheveled, as if she had just gotten out of the bath. She must have noticed his gaze upon her robe, because she began to tug at it and smooth the fabric into place. She pulled her long hair into a ponytail and then knotted it into her right hand as he spoke.

"I-It is late; I should not have disturbed you." He said as he stood, watching as her palm grew red and began to emanate heat, drying the knob of hair within her grasp.

"No, it's—fine." She said kindly, as she shifted her eyes from his to the ground.

"I've been thinking about what happened with Hadriana..." He continued as he moved towards her. "I—took out my anger on you, undeservedly so. I was not myself. I'm sorry."

Hawke looked up at him in surprise, her eyes sparkling back at him. He realized that he had paused, lost in her gaze and had to shift his eyes away from hers in order to regroup his thoughts and continue.

"When I was still a slave, Hadriana was a torment. Because of her status, I was powerless to respond, and she _knew_ it." Even now, thinking about Hadriana, as he explained to Hawke, made the rage within him boil, causing his lyrium markings to burn beneath his skin. "The thought of her slipping out of my grasp now; I couldn't let her go. I wanted to, but I couldn't."

"You wanted to?" Hawke asked, bewildered.

He looked up at her, in response to the tone of her question, and then shifted his eyes away and began to pace. "This hate" he continued, with disgust in his tone, "I thought I had gotten away from it but it dogs me no matter where I go. To feel it again, to know it was they who planted it inside me—it was too much to bear."

He stopped in front of Hawke, looked up at her, and sighed. He could see the concern in her expression, and the last thing that he had intended, was to give her more cause to worry. "But I didn't come here to burden you further." He said, as he turned to go. He could feel the anger still there, seething within him. He needed to make distance between them before he wound up hurting her all over again.

Unexpectedly, Hawke reached out and grabbed his arm. "You don't need to go, Fenris."

Her abrupt grasp, released the fury within him. Before he could think, his lyrium tattoos were glowing and he had her pinned up against the wall. The fear that glinted across the deep blue of her eyes halted him and as his rage dissipated, it was replaced with a ravenous hunger; a need deeper than anything that he had ever felt before. The look in Hawke's eyes flashed back at him, reflecting exactly how he felt and within an instant, her mouth was on his. She kissed him with urgency and then turned and pushed him against the wall. Her hands moved up his chest and wrapped around his neck as her lips continued to move against his, soft but rough. She nipped at his bottom lip with her teeth before teasing it into her mouth and sucking on it. He sighed, in response to the sensation, and slid his hands down to her hips, pulling her in tightly against him.

She slowly eased her tongue into his mouth, moving against his own like a dance. He coaxed her left leg up against his waist and trailed his right hand down until he met the seam of her robe, returning her kiss with an exploding rush of intensity. He shook the glove off his right hand and moved his fingers up under her robe. Her mouth released from his, gasping in pleasure from his touch against her bare skin. He trailed his fingers up under her robe, with urgency, along the soft skin of her outer thigh, grabbing onto the round, curvaceous, plumpness of her back side; she was naked. He had not thought about it, even when he had noticed that she must have just gotten out of the bath. A soft groan escaped his lips as he throbbed against her in anticipation.

Before he could register what was happening, Hawke released her lips from his, gazing into his eyes as she moved away from his grasp. His head was spinning and fuzzy; he couldn't think. She smiled seductively back at him as she whispered, "One moment." Before he could even gain his bearing's to respond, she was around the corner and in the living room speaking to Bodahn.

"Bodahn, would you please show Orana to her room?"

_Orana? Who was...Oh!_

With recognition, he smiled. She _had_ helped out that slave girl.

He moved to the edge of the wall, which separated the two rooms, and leaned against it as he removed his other glove and touched his fingers to his lips. They were plump and tingling from the ferocity of their kissing. He wanted his mouth back on hers, immediately.

"Then you and Sandal can retire for the evening." He heard Hawke continue.

"Yes, of course Mistress." Bodahn responded, obediently.

"Oh, and Bodahn, do you know if Mother is asleep?"

He grinned at her question.

"I believe so; Mistress Amell retired just before you arrived home." Bodahn answered.

"Thank you that will be all."

He listened as Bodahn ushered Sandal and Orana out of the room. Once he heard a door close, he rounded the corner. Hawke was facing him at the base of the stairs, on the opposite side of the room. He started to move towards her but then halted, mid stride, as her hands undid the knot that was holding her robe closed. Her eyes were transfixed on his as the black silk fell to her sides, revealing her naked body before him. He stopped breathing as his eyes inched slowly over her amazing perfection, which she was displaying just for him. Her naked body was even better than he had imagined. With an impish smile, she turned and headed up the stairs. He quickened his stride and grabbed her wrist, right as she reached the top step. She turned towards him, just in time, before his momentum had her pinned up against the large column in front of him.

His mouth was on hers, this time he was the rough one, nipping and biting her lips with frenzy as he pulled both of her legs up around his waist. Hawke's breathing quickened as she submitted to his touch. He moved his lips to the lobe of her ear, his breath thick with desire as he whispered, "_...Aven_." She sighed in response and trembled against him, causing his ache for her to intensify. He ran his lips down her neck, as his right hand inched up her soft skin and cupped her breast. Hawke shuddered against him as he tightened his grip. He could feel her fingers fumbling with the ties in the back of his armor and he slid his hand down from her breast back to her hips. He pushed her up higher against the beam, trailing his mouth over her skin until her soft, pink, nipple was in his mouth. Hawke dropped her hurried fingers to her side and arched against him, moaning in pleasure.

"Dear, is that you?" he heard a muffled voice say, through a door close to them.

He pulled back and looked into Hawke's enlarged blue eyes. He released her legs, allowing her to return to a standing position, but he remained pressed tightly against her; his lips inches from hers as she responded.

"Yes, Mother, it's just me."

There was a small pause and then he heard footsteps. He released Hawke, quickly. She hurriedly closed her robe, as he moved with haste around the corner and into the hallway which led to her room. He could hear a door open and then Leandra's voice as she questioned her daughter.

"Are you alright, dear? There was a loud commotion that awoke me."

He smiled as Hawke fumbled for an answer. "Oh—umm, yes, I—tripped and fell on the stairs, but I'm fine—just clumsy." she then quickly added. "Sorry that I awoke you, Mother."

"As long as you're alright, dear." Leandra replied, tenderly. There was a slight pause, followed by the sound of retreating footsteps, when suddenly, they ceased and once again, he heard Leandra's voice question her daughter. "Oh, I almost forgot! I hope that you know what you're going to do with that elf."

He stopped breathing.

"Uh..." He heard Hawke stammer out.

"Please don't tell me that you haven't taken care of it yet!" There was silence, and then he heard Leandra sigh with exasperation. "Dear, must I do everything?"

"Moth..."

Before Hawke could continue, Leandra cut her off. "All I'm saying, dear, is that I would just really appreciate it if you would wrap things up tonight, before I have to." There was an unnaturally long pause before she continued. "Aven, why are you looking at me that way? You did tell that poor girl to come here, didn't you?"

"Ooooh! Orana!" Hawke exclaimed. He stifled his laughter and grinned at the obvious relief in Hawke's voice as she overemphasized her reply. "Yes, yes, that's _all_ taken care of!"

Leandra drew silent for a moment before continuing with obvious concern in her voice. "Dear... are you alright? Perhaps, you fell harder than you thought."

He heard Hawke sigh dramatically. "No, Mother, I'm perfectly alright. It's just been a very, _very_, long day."

"Alright love, well go relax and enjoy the warmth of your bed, then."

He moved towards the doorway of Hawke's room, barely making out her quiet response.

"I plan on it... Goodnight, Mother."

He grinned as he finished undoing the parts of his chest piece, that Hawke had missed, and dropped it on to the floor as he entered her bedroom.

(Fenris, Bodahn, Orana, Leandra and *some* dialogue © Bioware)


	6. Part 6 Fenris

**FENRIS**

As Hawke entered her room, Fenris watched as a flicker of desire passed through her eyes as she beheld him, shirtless. She turned her back to him, and then quietly closed and locked her door. He moved up behind her, slid the robe off of her right shoulder, and tenderly kissed within the arc of her neck. She slowly turned until she was facing him and he framed her face in his palms, gently caressing her lips with his. His skin prickled beneath her touch, as she gently ran her fingers up and down the length of his bare back. The lyrium in his tattoos began to sting, causing his blood to escalate. He wanted to be gentle with her but there was an urgent need within him, to ravish her. His kiss grew heated and deepened as he lifted and carried her, with her legs wrapped around him, to her writing desk. He pushed everything off of the desk and set her down, in one fluid motion and she leaned back, releasing her lips from his.

He looked deep into her eyes as he untied her robe. His stare shifted, as her silken garment fell open, and he allowed himself the precious time to gaze over every enticing, perfect, curve of her naked body. He watched as the pleasure of his gaze reflected back at him in her deep blue eyes. Carefully and deliberately, he placed his right hand on her upper thigh as he bent over her and kissed her soft, lean, stomach. Hawke shivered with excitement, beneath him, and he grinned as small bumps rose upon her skin in response. He slowly glided his lips upwards, until her soft nipple was inside of his mouth, enjoying her body's response as it hardened beneath the gentle pressure of his tongue. He savored its velvety softness, sucking, and nibbling, as he grazed his left fingers up and across her skin, only stopping once her other breast was tightly within his left grip. Hawke's breath quivered against the pressure, sending droves of warmth throughout his body.

He unlocked his lips from her perky nipple as he slid his right hand up her thigh, slowly guiding his fingers towards the wet heat between her legs. He began rubbing his hand against her silky warmth, relishing in her response as she closed her eyes and trembled beneath his touch. He gently slipped one finger inside of her and then another and watched with eager anticipation as her eyes shot open with pleasure and her breathing became heated and sporadic. She tightened in response to his fingers rhythmic caress and his body stirred, aching for her. Hawke surprised him as she propped up on her left elbow and pulled his neck down until his mouth was locked passionately with hers. He increased his speed as she grew wetter around his fingers, basking in the feeling of her as his pants grew uncomfortably tight against his erection.

As if reading his thoughts, Hawke released his neck and grabbed the inseam of his pants. She ran her fingers against his skin, searching, until she found the encumbered tie and pulled it undone. A groan escaped his lips as she tightly gripped his swollen head, causing a dormant animalistic frenzy to consume him while she expertly rubbed the length of his shaft. Sparks of pleasure surged through his body; he couldn't think he could only bask in the feeling.

He removed his fingers from within her and grabbed her hips hard, pulling her forward roughly. Hawke leaned into his mouth and bit his lower lip, teasing him, as she increased the speed of her wrists. He groaned deeply, drawn into the intensity of the feeling. His fingers took over, digging into her hips as he picked her up from the desk and carried her to the bed. He quickly released her and removed his pants with urgency. He pulled her, impatiently, to the edge, until she was once again straddling him between her thighs. Fenris kissed her deep and rough as he slid himself inside of her and Hawke moaned with delight, lifting her hips against his urgent thrust, sending a surge of crazed fervor to ripple throughout his body.

Hawke surprised him, pleasantly, as she twisted her hips and pulled him down on top of her, pinning him beneath her thighs. She pulled her hair free, allowing her long, golden, red hair to cascade over her shoulders, as she rocked her hips against him. She used the strength in her upper legs to balance her, as she lengthening her stride against him and drove him deeper inside of her.

He propped himself up, pressing his hands tight against her back as he brought his mouth to her neck. He returned his hands to her hips, while sucking salaciously on her neck, as he pulled her harder against him. He felt a tremendous shiver run throughout her body in response as her nails dug deep into his shoulders. Her breath caught between her trembling lips, causing his pace to quicken. She was using magic; he could feel the pin prick of tiny icicle's on her fingertips. The cold tingled against the escalating sting of his lyrium markings, creating a pleasant sensation of pain mixed with pleasure.

He groaned impulsively, as she gripped him tighter while gyrating against him. He inadvertently released his grasp on her hips as his lips pulled away from her neck, intoxicated by the view as her movement hastened. She was breathing heavily against her exertion; her face was flushed and her eyes were glossed over. He was pulsating and aching inside of her, as she pulled him in close to climax.

For a split second, he was lost in a cloud of confusion. Several images—memories, flashed before him, a magister going down on him; his tattoo-less arms tied to a bed post; Danarius and a group of his guests, watching him with a female elf. Random sentences echoed in his mind: "You're all mine, tonight"... "I paid Danarius well to have you all to myself"... "Put on a good show for them, boy!" The images and voices, washed over him in a rush. Feelings of disgust, humiliation, and shame, engulfed him momentarily.

As quickly as the thoughts had entered his mind, they were gone again as he willed himself to focus in on Hawke's lips as they parted and, breathlessly, sucked in his name. "_F-F-Fenris!_"

Her head eased back, lengthening her neck as she reached her peak. He felt a flurry of pulsating spasms encompass him as Hawke screamed out in rapture, inducing his own release. She continued to rock her hips against him and he succumbed to the ecstatic feeling as it coursed throughout his body in explosions, until he had completely spilled out inside of her. He isolated the feeling, drinking in the elation that washed over him.

Hawke shifted her hips, pulling him down against the mattress with her, as he gradually softened inside of her. They were both breathing heavily, in unison. He reached over her, endearingly, and tucked her hair behind her ear. As their breathing became shallow, he cupped her damp face within his hands and gazed into the deep ocean of her blue eyes. Flickers, from the lit fire next to them, reflected back at him in her gaze as he pulled her chin to his, and kissed her lips tenderly. Hawke smiled back at him and he soaked in the euphoria of her happiness.

_Asti a vala femundis; she is so beautiful!_

It felt like a dream; he was afraid that he might wake up at any moment. Hawke got up and moved to the closest window, pushing it open and sighing as the cool air hit her naked body. She looked at him, slyly, and then moved towards him and grabbed his hand, tugging him off of the bed towards the window. He inhaled as the cool breeze twirled in the air next to him and then encompassed his body. As he exhaled, he intertwined his ling fingers within Hawke's, fascinated as the shimmering moonlight danced across her damp, pale, skin. He pulled her naked, glowing, body in against his own and kissed her affectionately. Just being against Hawke, made his body stir once more. This need that he had for her was far from sated.

She released from his lips, with a devilish grin and flicked her wrist, sending flurries of snow into the air above them. The tiny flakes turned to water immediately, as they hit his steaming skin. Hawke's eyes lit up playfully and she turned from him and crawled across the bed. He watched the perfect curves of her hips, as she moved towards the opposite side of the mattress and reached down, giving him a perfect view of her soft, inviting, slit. Within an instant, he was completely hard again.

He moved towards the bed and watched as she lifted up a folded, dry, red cloth and then doused it into a bowl of water that had been set out on the nightstand next to her. He climbed onto the bed and moved in behind her, gently pulling her back against his damp warm skin as he kissed her neck. She gasped, in response, and then glanced back at him over her left shoulder. He welcomed the invitation and readily moved his mouth up to meet hers.

Hawke grinned against his lips and released from his kiss. "Again?" she whispered.

"Mmhmm" he answered, in a throaty growl.

He moved his lips back against her smiling mouth, and slid his hand down the length of her stomach until his hand was once more nestled in the warmth between her thighs. Hawke moaned as his fingers slid between her lower lips, and began massaging. She reached across her chest with her right hand, grabbing his neck from over her shoulder, with the soaked red cloth still in her clutch. She pulled him in closer and deepened their kiss, moving her tongue fervently against his. The pressure, against the cloth, caused the cool water to stream out over the left side of their bodies. The cool sensation, made Hawke's lips quiver against his, sending prickling shivers to surge through the heated lyrium in his skin.

She released her clasp on his neck and lips, peering lasciviously back at him. He glanced down at the red cloth in her grip, as she slowly trailed the wet fabric over her protruding collar bone. She took her time as she descended slowly across her voluptuous breasts, causing her tantalizing full nipples to harden against the sensation. Small bumps raised on her milky white skin as she continued downward, alongside the sensual soft lines of her stomach. His breathing hitched covetously, as she grew increasingly wet beneath his diligent fingertips. He throbbed against her back as he followed the line of glistening precipitation that the red cloth left behind in, its wake, before resting upon his hand between her thighs. She dropped the cloth off of the side of the bed and reached down between her legs, pushing her backside against him, while she grabbed on to his throbbing tip with her cool, wet hand. He could feel her grip go icy cold against the burning heat in his pounding head, as she gripped and squeezed, sending him into a gratifying sensation of colliding temperatures.

Hawke guided his cock back inside of her, as he continued to coax her clit, softly, beneath his fingertips. She sighed, with gratification, as he thrust deep inside of her and moved his hand back to her hips. She leaned forward, onto her hands, pushing backwards against him as she rocked her hips, matching his stride. He watched as the lean muscles in her back rippled against her motion and her hips moved regressively, pushing her amazing ass against his lower abdomen; he was mesmerized, as he continued to penetrate deep inside of her.

Hawke looked back at him over her left shoulder, smiling seductively as he pulled her in against him. His breath caught in his chest with an increasingly ravenous appetite as he pushed more firmly inside of her. She quivered beneath his increase in pressure and gasped with delight, releasing her elbows as she buried her head into the blanket, muffling her amplified moans. She slid her right hand between their legs, until his package was nestled within her grip. He could feel heat emanating from her palms as she massaged him. The sensation rendered him momentarily paralyzed as a tingling sensation burst through his lyrium markings.

_Magic..._

The sensation was intoxicating. Only Hawke could use magic in a way that would make him momentarily forget his hatred of it. The feeling was so overpowering, that it stirred within him a heightened desperation to gratify her. Hawke's hand moved from him, to in between her own thighs, rubbing against herself, as he leaned slightly forward and moved his hands to her soft, supple, breasts. He kneaded them roughly as he deepened his stride inside of her.

She pushed back up with her arms, breathing heavily, as he continued to penetrate her relentlessly. Her hands went back and braced against his thighs, driving her nails into his legs and shooting stinging waves of fire across his skin. She clamored with joy, encouraging him with her breathless, repeated, _yesses_! He could feel her tightening all around him and moved his hands back to her hips, pressing his fingers deep into her waist. She leaned forward, once again, succumbing against his heated speed as her moans deepened with his escalating stride; her verbal cues, teasing his sore, aching, cock, as he fought against his climax.

Suddenly, again, the images poured down on top of him, with greater speed than the last time. Spinning and flashing moments in his life before the ritual and the lyrium. He was flooded with a magnitude of emotions. His life, literally, flashed before his eyes in an instant; then, it was gone.

He could no longer fight against the throbbing buildup of pressure. Hawke cried out in ecstasy, "YESSSSSS!" Her head shot back and he released, bursting inside of her, climaxing at the precise moment as her. Her body convulsed, inside and out, with the magnitude of her orgasm. An insurmountable sense of gratification encompassed him, enveloping him in waves of tingling euphoria. He wrapped his arms around her and fell to the side, bringing her down against the mattress with him. He could feel her heart pounding against her chest in perfect time with his own. He inhaled deeply and as he exhaled, he kissed her back, tasting the alluring salt of her skin as he cradled her against his body and succumbed to his satisfied exhaustion. The rhythm of their hearts lulled him into sleep, while he remained, deep inside of her.

(Fenris © Bioware)


	7. Part 7 Fenris

**FENRIS**

Fenris awoke a few hours later. He watched as Hawke's body moved up and down with her sleeping, shallow, breathing. He slowly pulled his arm out from underneath her and turned on to his back. He stared up at the ceiling and pondered on those first few memories that had flashed back to him. They had been much clearer in his mind, than the others (which had been a massive surge of thousands of memories). He felt confused and agitated. He thought upon the first few images that he had recalled, and cringed. If that was his past, did he really want to know all of it? Perhaps it was a gift that he could no longer remember. As quickly as he thought it, he immediately despised himself for thinking it.

_No! It was taken without my permission! I was branded with these cursed markings and stripped of my entire life! And for what? A single Magister's desire, for a talented pet!_

His blood began to boil with anger, at the thought of Danarius (his former master, the mage that had, single-handedly, ruined his life). He wished, more than anything, that he could not remember _him_. Hawke shifted in her sleep and he turned and focused in on her full, pouty lips, as a sigh escaped them. Her pale skin looked soft and enticing as the flicker of the fire, still raging in the fireplace beside them, danced across her back. She looked so serene and peaceful.

He exhaled deeply; what was he doing? Hawke was perfect; she was beautiful, kind, generous, and—an amazing lover. Even as a mage, she demanded respect. She was powerful but just and had profound control over her magic. She was, truly, the _only_ exception to the rule, when it came to mages. She needed someone better than him; someone that was amazing, like her. Somebody who wasn't engulfed in rage and torment, who was at peace and not consumed in a labyrinth of complicated issues, or on the run and constantly looking over their shoulder.

What if he lost his temper again? He had almost hurt her, simply because she had unexpectedly grabbed him. He still wasn't sure if it was rage or sexual urge that had initially induced him to hold her, pinned, against the wall. He was far more confused and tortured by the animal within, than he had realized. The thought of losing control and hurting her... he couldn't bear the thought. She was too good; too wonderful, to be pulled into this complex emotional roller-coaster that he was on. The steam was there, just below the surface, always ready to boil over at any given moment, and he knew it.

He looked down at her, breathtakingly, naked body. He longed to hold her close and push away these thoughts that troubled his mind. He wanted to intertwine their bodies together and get lost again in her touch. His heart clenched, sending a rush of sadness throughout him. He couldn't do this to her; he wouldn't. He had to stop being selfish; he did not deserve her. He _had_ to let her go. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut. That realization, washed over him in waves of excruciating pain. How had he let this happen? Why had he gotten so close to her? These feelings were pure torture.

He clenched his fists and forced himself to get up off of the bed. He found his armor and began redressing, but paused as Hawke stirred and rolled from her side to her back as her eyes fluttered open. He watched as she shifted her gaze from the empty spot next to her, on her bed, and then up at him as he finished securing his chest piece.

Hawke smiled up at him. "Was it _that_ bad?" she teased.

His mind was still racing as he fought against his reluctant determination. "I'm sorry; I-It's not... It was _fine_." He answered, without thinking.

He watched as the smile faded from her face and her eyes shifted down.

_Venhedis!_

"No..." The words rushed out of his mouth, as he stumbled to try and explain better. "That is—insufficient!"

Hawke looked back up at him and once again met his gaze. "_It was better than anything I could have dreamed!_" He stated with intense sincerity.

"Your markings... they hurt, don't they?" she asked, her expression betraying both concern and uncertainty.

"It's not that." Though, he wished it were. "I began to remember, my life before… just flashes." He sighed and began to pace. "I-It's too much, this is too fast. I-I cannot do this." He said, loathing the words as they passed through his lips.

"Your life before, what do you mean?" Hawke asked her forehead wrinkled in distress.

He turned and looked into the fireplace; the flames seemed to be reaching out for him, hungrily. "I've never remembered anything from before the ritual. There were faces—words. For just a moment I could recall all of it, and then it slipped away." He explained.

Hawke stood, and placed his left hand in hers. He turned to face her and she gazed, hopeful, into his eyes. "Don't you _want_ to get your memories back?"

He could feel his resolve weakening. He closed his eyes, removed his hand from within her grasp, and turned his back to her.

"Perhaps you don't realize how upsetting this is. I've never remembered anything—and to have it all come back, in a rush, only to lose it..." It was a weak excuse, but it was one that he _knew_ she would not be able to fight against. He relented, in defeat, his words barely more than a whisper. "I _can't_... I can't." He exhaled, deeply, his back to her still. He was afraid to look at her; he didn't want to see the pain behind her eyes, or the grief in her beautiful face.

"I see where this is going." Hawke said, softly, with sadness in her tone.

"I'm sorry... I feel like such a fool! All I wanted, was to be _happy_... just for a little while." He replied, dismally. He moved forward but was halted, as Hawke gently clasped her hand around his wrist.

"Wait." She whispered.

He turned, reluctantly, towards her. She tried to turn away, before he could see her face, but he was still able to identify the tears welling up in her eyes. He watched as she searched the floor, located the damp, red, cloth on the ground, and picked it up. She held on to his arm, tenderly, avoiding his gaze as she tied the fabric around his right wrist. She sat back on the bed, as she brought his hand towards her face and placed her lips upon the material. Without removing her eyes from the newly tied red cloth, she released him, gifting him with a special memento of their night together.

His breath caught in his throat and his chest restricted; agony engulfed him. He had to muster all of his strength, and force himself to turn away.

"Forgive me." He whispered, as he turned from her and made distance between their bodies, leaving her behind.

(Fenris, Danarius, and some dialogue © Bioware)


	8. Part 8 Anders

**ANDERS**

Anders awoke with a start.

"Shhh, it's just me." Hawke whispered as she climbed on top of him.

He was groggy and trying to adjust his eyes to the darkness. "Hawke... what are you..." He cut off as his eyes adjusted.

His heart began to race as he watched her take off her shirt while she straddled him on top of his cot. She bent down and kissed his lips, softly, and then moved to his ear and whispered, "I want you, Anders." Her words sent shivers through his body as her hands trailed slowly down his chest, teasing him. Her eyes flickered with desire, as she inched further down his stomach. She brought her mouth back to his and he kissed her back with urgency, aching for her touch, as her hands moved further downwards.

"Healer! Healer!"

He was ripped from his sleep, by loud repetitive knocking. He could hear a frantic female's voice behind the door of his clinic and he groaned.

_It was only a dream!_

His body felt like a dead weight and his brain was fuzzy.

"Healer, are you there?! Maker, please be there!" she plead, thick with desperation.

"Yes... I'm coming." he stated, loudly, as he willed himself to get up.

He felt like he had been hit by an ogre. His body was sore, his head was pounding, and he felt sick to his stomach. He inched towards the door, trying to focus his eyes in the process. He shouldn't have had so much to drink. He hadn't drunk that much in years! He unlocked and opened the door. There was a young woman before him, an infant boy on her left hip with his small head resting against her shoulder. He was pale and lethargic in her arms. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she anxiously bounced her upper body and rubbed her baby's back.

"My son, he's ill." She said, her face matching the agitation in her tone.

"Bring him in and set him there." he said, gesturing her forward and pointing to the closest table.

His head felt like it was going to explode. He couldn't use any of his magic on himself; he was going to have to harness all of it, in order to help this baby.

"Please, tell me that you can help him!" She cried.

"I will do everything that I possibly can, I promise." He replied, gently.

He could see the ache in her dark brown eyes and his heart clenched. She looked so young, eighteen, at the most. She had long, stringy, dishwater blonde hair and her clothes were shabby and torn. She was gaunt and her eyes had dark circles around them. Despite her appearance, he could tell that, at one time, she must have been very beautiful. She was, most likely, a Ferelden refugee.

"He's all that I have left; I don't know what I will do if I lose him too!" she sobbed, as she peered down at her baby.

_Maker! Why did I get so drunk?_

He knew _exactly_ why he had gotten drunk...

_He had left Hawke's mansion, lost in his thoughts, as he had made his way to the barracks. He had smiled as he had recalled the isolated moments that he had just exchanged with Hawke. He had held her hand, and she had let him. Her skin had been so soft; her touches, gentle. Hadn't he seen a spark in her eyes when they had touched? He had felt a surge of energy shoot through him; had it been that way for her as well? As he had reached the barracks, Aveline had been on her way out with an escort of her guardsmen._

"Anders, what are you doing here?" Aveline asked, surprised.

"I was hoping to get your help, but it looks as though you are busy?"

"Yes, sorry Anders, we just learned of an important lead in an investigation and we need to leave now." Aveline paused, and studied his face. "Unless—does this have to do with Hawke?"

He realized that he must have looked disappointed and suddenly straightened up. "Oh no, she's perfectly fine—It was something else. I can find help elsewhere."

Aveline hesitated, for a second, until one of her guardsman, Donnic, spoke up.

"Captain, we had better get going, if we are to have any luck."

Aveline glanced back at Donnic, her expression changing back to her stern professionalism. "You're right Donnic." She then glanced, apologetically, back at Anders. "Sorry, Anders, I must go."

He nodded, with understanding, and then turned and walked in the direction of the chantry. He barely rounded the corner, of the Viscounts Keep, when he nearly collided with Sebastian.

"Anders!" Sebastian exclaimed, as he came to a sudden halt.

"Sebastian, I was just on my way to find you."

Sebastian looked at him perplexed. "You were? Is something wrong with Hawke?"

He shook his head, a bit irritated. "Why does everyone assume that there's something wrong with Hawke?"

Sebastian's forehead creased and then he smiled as he responded, "Perhaps, because you rarely leave your clinic, unless you are with Hawke."

He dropped his head and laughed. "Fair point."

"Forgive me, Anders, but if this is not about Hawke, I must leave. The Grand Cleric has tasked me with an important letter that I must deliver quickly."

He studied Sebastian's apprehensive expression and, for a split second, was tempted to ask if it had anything to do with any mages, but he dropped the idea immediately knowing, full well, that Sebastian would never tell him if it was.

"No. It's nothing. I'll see you later."

Sebastian nodded and then moved past him, in a hurry.

Out of options, he found himself with no other choice than to head back to The Hanged Man and hope that Isabela, Varric, and Merrill, had not gotten too drunk to help. As he made his way to Lowtown he cursed Fenris for being such a nuisance.

_Bloody Elf!_

Just as he reached out for the door, to The Hanged Man, it swung out at him with force, nearly slamming into him. It initially caught him off guard, but his feelings quickly turned to anger. Had he have been even one inch closer, he would've been bleeding on the ground. He was about to yell, at whoever was responsible, when he realized who it was. Fenris' eyes flitted around, anxiously, and he could tell that he was clearly in a hurry. He immediately recognized the frustrated desperation in his countenance, and it hit him; Fenris was looking for Hawke.

He had guessed that there was something, underlying, between Fenris and Hawke but as far as he had been able to tell, neither one had done anything about it. When Fenris had lashed out at Hawke, earlier that day, he had been secretly happy. Not that Fenris had hurt her, but because, surely, now she would see him for what he really was; an animal. What he had not expected, was how much, it wound up hurting Hawke. In the three years that he had known Hawke, he had never seen her as dispirited as she was today.

Seeing that urgency in Fenris's eyes, told him everything. Suddenly, holding her hand and the electricity in their touch, felt ridiculous. Fenris's obvious desperation to get to her, trampled all of his hopes into the ground. He knew, immediately, that he had lost his chance with her. The realization enveloped him in an overwhelming sense of sadness.

He ignored as Fenris halted, his green eyes squinting back at him in confusion as he moved past him, without a word, into the bar. He no longer cared that Fenris had almost hit him with the door; the anger had resigned and its place, overwhelming sorrow had taken over.

_He had needed to push those thoughts as far from his mind as he possibly could; he had needed to get drunk. He had no idea how much he had drank, or even how he had gotten home, for that matter._

The young mother sniffled, bringing him back to the matter at hand.

"When did you start noticing a difference in him?" He asked.

She sat down on a small stool next to her son, and laid her fingers over his tiny knuckles, as she answered. "He was fine, all of yesterday, and then he acted really tired so I put him down for bed..." she paused briefly, and held her breath, in attempt to gain control over her rapid breathing."...this was earlier than usual. He's still nursing, so he usually wakes up every few hours. When he didn't wake up, I went and checked on him and he was wide awake but he hadn't made a sound."

A sob escaped her mouth, as she struggled to gain composure, and then she continued. "When I picked him up, his forehead was burning up, but his fingers and toes were icy cold. I've been up with him all night. He won't eat, or move, and he hasn't once cried or made any sort of sound." As she explained, she did not once remove her gaze from her son.

He began scanning his hands over the child, using his healing energy to locate the source of the problem. He started at his feet, and then moved upwards. The more complex parts of the body, such as the head, chest, and stomach, required harnessing larger amounts of magic. That power leeched his mana pool, so he saved those areas for last. When he reached the boys' stomach, he felt the energy shift and inched slower over the baby's mid-section, until he had a better idea of where to create magical barriers, inside of the child, in order to trap the infection from spreading further.

"He seems to have quite a large infection in his stomach. I'm working on containing it now, so that it doesn't spread any further." he added, as he remained focused on his task.

The young woman pulled her legs to her chest and cried softly into her knees. The baby's glossed over eyes followed the blue glow, emanating from his hands, as he worked on him.

"Maker, please let him be ok." she whispered, her face still buried into her knees.

He did one quicker scan, before gathering his strength. He concentrated, with all of his might, while fighting against the aftermath of his hangover, and cast a powerful healing spell within the barriers that he had created. Keeping his focus, felt nearly impossible as his head throbbed with excruciating pain. He couldn't cast it in one big burst, it had to be slow and steady, or he could wind up causing damage to the child's inner organs. Somehow, he managed enough self-control to keep his hands steady. He could feel the energy, from the infection, slowly dissipate. Within a few minutes, the negative energy was completely gone and as if to confirm his assessment, the baby began to cry.

The young mother gathered him into her arms, smiling in relief as she embraced and kissed her child. "Do you mind if I feed him?" she asked, with renewed hope in her voice.

"No, please do." he said, as he turned from her, allowing her the privacy to nurse her child.

"Oh, he's eating!" she exclaimed with excitement. "Thank you so, so, much Healer! She added, as she began cooing lovingly at her baby.

"I'm just glad that he's alright. It's a good thing that you came when you did, the infection was spreading rapidly." he said, as he moved towards a table of herbs and began mixing a remedy for his hangover. He consumed it quickly and sighed as the pain subsided from his body, leaving a refreshing sense of renewal in its place. He then began to prepare another concoction.

"I'm going to mix together a potion that I want you to give to him over the next few days. This will get rid of any infection that I may have missed and it will help with the pain."

"Pain?" She asked, worried.

"It's nothing to be concerned about. He will be sore from the healing process, and this will help with that."

"Oh, ok, thank you." She replied softly.

As he finished making the potion, the young woman sighed with relief. "He's asleep."

He took that as confirmaion that she was done nursing, turned, and walked towards her. "If he starts acting like he did, bring him back immediately." He handed her the potion and then sat down on a small stool next to her.

She suddenly burst into tears. "I don't know how I can repay you. I don't have any money or even anything of value." She said in between sobs.

He peered sincerely into her eyes. "You don't need to pay me anything. I'm just glad that I was able to help..."

"Hawk" she whispered, cutting him off. He looked up at the door, expecting to see Hawke, and then back at the young woman, confused. "His name is Hawk" She clarified.

"...Hawk." he repeated, softly, as he watched the child sleep peacefully in his mother's arms.

His thoughts then shifted to his dream. He smiled at the memory, but it quickly faded as he recalled the look of desperation in Fenris's eyes. Why was it, that his thoughts could never be free of Hawke?

(Anders, Aveline, Donnic, Sebastian, Varric, Isabela, Merrill, and Fenris © Bioware)


	9. Part 9 Isabela

**ISABELA**

"So, who all is coming?" Varric asked her, as he sipped gingerly from his mug.

Isabela slammed her empty glass down upon the table and swiped the back of her hand across her mouth. "Everyone, I think." She paused. "Well, except for Sebastian, of course."

"Of course." Varric retorted.

She glanced sideways at Varric with a frown. "You know, it's really starting to annoy me, this whole chantry bit of his; I want him to gamble, especially when we play strip poker. My curiosity of what's under that Andraste face, on his belt, is really starting to get the best of me."

Varric chuckled. "It always does Rivaini." he added, with a wink.

She snapped her fingers in the air, until she had the barmaid's attention, and then pointed her index finger, gesturing for another pint. The barmaid nodded back at her in acknowledgment.

"Anders should be here any moment..." she trailed off, as an idea hit her. "Oh, Varric!" She paused, a smile lifting on the left side of her face. "I have a igrrreat/i idea!" She said, arching her left eyebrow as she leaned in, menacingly, towards him.

Varric smiled back at her. "I know that look... I'm in."

She grinned wickedly and began to explain. "Ok... you buy everyone in the bar a drink, but tell them that when Anders enters, they all have to yell _Anders!_... like everyone knows him!"

Varric wrinkled his eyebrows. "And why am _I_ the one buying all of these drunks a pint?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes at him as she explained. "...because you have coin and I don't, of course."

Varric chuckled, before taking another swig of his ale. "Alright, Rivaini, but you owe me."

"Wait, you haven't even heard the good part; this is going to be worth it!" she exclaimed with anticipation.

Varric held his mug to his lips as he replied, "Alright, let's hear it."

Her eyes widened, in excitement. "So, everyone yells his name..." She watched as her favorite, beardless, dwarf nodded in response (his mouth full of ale). "Then, when he comes over to the table, confused as to why everyone knows his name, we explain _our_ version of his drunken mess last night!" She could barely contain her excitement from boiling over.

She watched as Varric's eyes lit up as he swallowed. "I like the way you think, Rivaini."

She gloated back at him. "I know... that's why you must always be around me."

Varric shifted his gaze to her and smiled slyly. "Well, Bianca likes you, _plus_, you have an enormous rack."

"Well, that too—obviously." she added, nonchalantly, sipping on the drink that the barmaid had just set down next to her.

She watched as Varric pushed his chair back, got up, and talked with the bartender, then followed him with her eyes, as he went from customer to customer, describing Anders, and offering the pint as their agreement. Everyone was excited, cheering and toasting to him and she overheard him, as he neared their table:

"When you see a human, with blonde hair in a ponytail, and wild, feathery pauldrons, yell _Anders!_; Got it?"

She laughed to herself. Varric was, by far, one of her funniest friends.

"All done, Rivaini!" Varric said, as he sat back down in his chair and put his left arm around her.

"What? No drink for me?"

Varric shot her a sideways glance.

"I'm teasing!" she said, as she leaned in and wrapped her arms around him, smothering his head in her breasts. "You are the best dwarf that a pirate girl could ever ask for!" she said, as she released her grasp and smiled, mischievously, down at him.

"Admit it, it's the chest hair". Varric responded, playfully.

"ANDERS!" The whole room shouted his name, before she had even turned from Varric. She looked up, just in time, to see the surprised expression on Anders' face and had to suck in the laughter that was trying to escape her throat.

"Let the fun begin." she whispered to Varric, a small giggle escaping her lips as she watched Anders move hurriedly towards their table.

"Why does everyone know my name?" Anders asked, agitated.

"You don't remember last night, Blondie?" Varric asked pretending to be surprised.

"That was the most fun I've had in a long time!" She added, while peering seductively up at him. Anders' face went pale. "Don't tell me you don't _remember_!" She looked up at him and then shifted her eyes to the ceiling, as if she were recalling the previous night, and sighed. "That tight, hot body pressed hard against mine. Mmmm... so rough and ravenous!" She clenched the table as she regained eye contact with him. "I never knew that you had that in you!" She added precociously, as she winked up at him.

Anders held an uneasy expression upon his face.

"Isabela, I thought that he told you, _No_!" Varric asked, looking back at her in faux surprise.

"Well, we weren't back in that storage room long, before he changed his answers to all _yessses_." she purred, in response, as she held Anders' gaze and bit her bottom lip. She changed her expression to a frown, as Anders stared back at her, speechless. "You really don't remember?" She continued, with a perfect pout on her lips. "It was like old times..." she whispered, as she leaned in towards him. "You even did that electricity thing again." she added, seductively, returning her half grin as she licked her lips. She closed her eyes and exhaled while nodding her head back and forth. "Mmm that storage room will never be the same again."

Anders stared, dumbfounded, back at her. She could tell that he was searching his memory for any recollection and she so desperately wanted to laugh.

"Don't worry about the Templar's either, Blondie." Varric added in, as he guzzled down the remainder of his beer.

She watched as Anders' attention, quickly moved towards Varric.

"What do you mean?" Anders asked, anxiously.

"Blondie, I _just_ said not to worry about it; it's been taken care of." Varric added, flippantly.

She smiled as Varric puzzled upon his empty glass, grabbed her pint, and then tipped it back, taking his time as he consumed the frothy golden liquid within it.

"Hey!"she protested. She glanced back up at Anders and grinned at the look of frustration in his eyes as he impatiently waited for Varric to explain.

"I'll buy you another one in a minute, Rivaini, besides, you owed me one!" Varric said, winking back at her before he took a deep breath and then continued, in the same steady tone. "It cost me a lot of coin to buy everyone off last night, but it was worth the show that you put on for us!"

Anders moved in closer to the table, his face creased in with lines of distress. "What did I do?" he whispered.

As casual as before, Varric replied, "Oh... you really don't remember?"

She couldn't help but smile, it seemed as though he were in slow motion as Varric paused and then took another long sip from her mug. She focused in on his expression as he took his time savoring the taste, thus torturing Anders who was, more than obviously, desperate for a straight answer. She wanted to burst out laughing as Anders grew more and more frustrated by the second.

She couldn't help but feed into his apprehension. "You should get drunk more often; you were _soooo_ much fun!" she paused, slightly, and then asked provocatively, "Want to go back into the storage room?"

Anders, somehow, ignored her and as soon as Varric put his glass down on to the table, he grabbed it. "Tell me what I was doing, Varric!" he pushed with hushed escalating anger.

"Whoa, calm down Blondie—before your blue glowing eyes take over! Didn't I tell you not to worry?" Varric paused for a second, adjusted in his chair, and played with the other empty mug on the table before finally relenting. "You were showing us all of your magic tricks. Fireballs and electricity everywhere! You burnt down a few chairs and tables..." He chuckled. "I had to pay for those too, but it was worth it!"

"Yes, it most certainly was!" Isabela agreed, while pretend laughing with Varric.

"Now, give me back my pint, Blondie."

She watched as Anders' eyes searched skeptically around the room. He handed the mug back to Varric and moved slowly away from the table, completely cautious of his surroundings.

"Who burnt down chairs and tables?" Merrill asked.

Absentmindedly, she answered without realizing her presence. "Anders, Kitten."

"When was that; how did I miss that?" Merrill exclaimed disappointed.

Isabela suddenly realized Merrill, standing next to her. "Oh, Merrill, you're here! Where are the others?" she asked, as she patted the chair next to her.

Merrill sat down beside her as she answered. "Hawke, Aveline, and Fenris stopped at a merchant's tent just outside. They should be here in a minute."

Varric burst out laughing. "Relax Blondie, we were joking!" She looked up to see shock and then anger sweep across Anders' face. "Sorry Rivaini, he looked like he was about to bolt out of here." Varric explained, as he turned towards her. "I had to come clean." He added, with laughter in his voice.

She watched as Anders took a deep breath, steadied himself, and then exhaled in relief. "Maker, That is _not_ funny! I do _actually_ have Templar's after me!"

"Oh, relax!" she said as she rolled her eyes. "As if you would ever be that much fun!" she added.

"So Anders didn't _really_ burn down anything?" Merrill interjected, confused.

She looked at her and smiled sweetly. "No, Kitten, we were just teasing him."

"Oh good, because I always seem to miss the good stuff!" She exclaimed, relieved. "I'm going to go get a drink, does anyone want anything?" Merrill asked, politely.

Varric answered her. "Yeah, Daisy, get Anders a drink—he _needs_ one!"

Anders piped up, quickly. "No! Thank you, Merrill; I had quite enough last night."

Merrill shrugged her shoulders, turned her back to the group, and pranced over to the bar.

"At least it was a way better story, than what actually happened!" Isabela added.

She watched as the bar tender flirted with Merrill, none of which Merrill was catching on to. She adored how innocent, sweet, and naive Merrill was.

"What… did happen?" Anders asked, curiously, bringing her attention back to him.

"You got drunk, and cried into your sleeve over Hawke; something about how you had _missed your chance_" she added, carelessly. "It was all _very_ boring and a _huge_ buzz kill."

She watched as Anders' cheeks flush.

"Rivaini and I had to carry you home, you couldn't even walk." Varric added, in between sips of his nearly empty mug.

"You owe me, by the way; you are heavy!" she added, irritated, and then looked up at him, curiously. "I had no idea that you were so hard up for Hawke. Have you told her?"

Anders' expression went cold. "No, and I don't plan to, so mind your own business." Anders responded, forcefully.

"Told who what?" Hawke chimed in.

Anders shot a glare at her, before she could turn towards the direction of Hawke's voice. "Oh, just Anders' obsession with..." she cut off as Anders drilled his eyes into hers. _Shit! I really shouldn't mess with him. He'll never help me again._ She, reluctantly, conceded. "With—this—woman." she stammered out.

Luckily, Hawke didn't seem to press the issue. Instead, she lit up and turned towards Anders. "What? Anders, you never told me! Who is she? Do I know her?"

She watched as Anders paused, looked at her, and then turned towards Hawke. "Yes, you know her." He then turned back towards her, with anger in his eyes as he continued. "But I would rather not talk about it." He added, sternly, piercing her with his gaze.

She shifted her eyes to Hawke's, and watched as her smile faded. "Oh, ok, of course." Hawke replied, softly.

She looked back at Anders just in time to see his expression sadden. It annoyed her; why wouldn't he just tell her? Clearly, they both needed to get laid. There was far too much sexual tension in the room. She turned to her left to see Fenris seated beside her, he seemed transfixed on the exchange between Hawke and Anders.

"How did everything go today? Did you guys find what you were looking for?" Isabela asked, breaking the silence.

Hawke answered as she undid the scarf around her neck and absentmindedly pulled her hair up into a ponytail with it. "Yes, we were able to find some of the items that Varric had heard about, and a few rare gems; should be worth a bit. Varric, can you look..."

She immediately cut Hawke off. "Hawke! Is that a hickey?"

Hawke quickly undid the tie that she had made with the scarf, releasing her long hair as her face turned a deep shade of red. She got up from her chair and moved towards Hawke, lifted her red hair, and gasped. "It is!" She exclaimed, shocked. "Hawke! Why haven't you told me? Who is it? You need to tell me, immediately!" she insisted, animated by her curiosity.

She gazed around the room and no one seemed as interested as her. Aveline was giving her a dirty look; Varric seemed absorbed in what was left in his mug; Anders was staring at Fenris and Fenris seemed transfixed on whatever was on the table in front of him.

_Why is no one as excited?_

All eight of them: Aveline, Hawke, Anders, Fenris, Merrill, Varric, She, and Sebastian were always in each other's business. They had spent nearly every day, for the past three years together (with the exception of Sebastian whom had only recently joined their group, a few months prior, but he wasn't even there!) Plus, it was about Hawke! In the three years that she had known her, she had only witnessed Hawke's minor flirtations, but nothing that held any substance or real gossip value. She had figured that in the years prior, Hawke must have had her own trysts but it was only recently that they had become close enough that Hawke had begun confiding in her as a trusted friend, or so she had thought.

"Can you believe this?" She exclaimed, while turning towards Fenris.

Fenris didn't even look back up at her, which was strange. Even when he pretended that he wasn't humoring her, he always really was. At the very least, she expected a sideways glance from him. She looked down at what he was staring at, and couldn't see anything, when her eyes passed over his right arm. "What's with the red cloth around your wrist?"

"It was a gift." Fenris replied, calmly, not removing his eyes from the table.

"A gift… from whom?" she asked, peering down at him, confused, willing him to make eye contact with her. He was acting especially broody; more than usual. Fenris didn't remove his eyes from the table, but Hawke began to speak.

"Isabela..."

Aveline cut her off. "No, Hawke, you don't need to explain your personal life to anyone!" Aveline insisted. She stood in front of Hawke, as if she were guarding her. "It's none of your business, Isabela, leave her alone."

"Calm down, Big Girl!" She snapped back. "Hawke can make up her own damned decision if she wants to tell me!"

She couldn't stand Aveline, especially when she got protective over Hawke. She hated how she acted as if she were the only one that viewed Hawke as a sister and cared enough to put her life at risk to protect her. It infuriated her; Hawke was one of her best friends, too!

"Just let it go, Isabela." Anders added, backing up Aveline.

She looked up at Anders' concerned expression, and a light bulb went on. She smiled coyly.

_Holy shit! Hawke was fully giving him the green light earlier to come clean. Stupid bastard!_

"_Ohhhh_, I get it. Hangover didn't stop you, eh? You are bolder than I..."

Fenris's head shot up at her from the table and met her gaze, quickly cutting her off. "Isabela let it be." He said, in calm, but stern tone, as his eyes remained locked with hers.

She wrinkled her eyebrows and pouted. Why were they all ganging up on her? They must be _just_ as curious!

"Rivaini, how about I buy you that drink now?" Varric asked, while he stood and nudged her shoulder, gesturing towards Merrill, who was still at the bar (clearly having difficulty, as she tried to walk away from the bartender).

She gazed around the table of her_ friends_, with a frown upon her face. Hurt, more than anything that Hawke wasn't talking to her."You are all horribly boring tonight!" She emphasized, while pushing her chair back, dramatically, as she turned away from the table.

(Isabela, Varric, Sebastian, Anders, Merrill, Aveline and Fenris © Bioware)


	10. Part 10 Fenris

**FENRIS**

Fenris waited for Isabela to leave the table. Once she was gone, he looked up and immediately made eye contact with Hawke. He wanted that moment, those few seconds locked in her gaze, to last for forever. She shifted her eyes so quickly, that he was barely able to adjust to the conflicting wave of emotions that encompassed him. Hope and happiness were quickly shot down and replaced with despondency. In truth, he had no idea why he had joined the rest of the party at The Hanged Man. He was exhausted and being around her, was as painful as it was intoxicating. This foreign feeling of distance, between him and Hawke, was beyond frustrating.

For as long as he could remember, he had been a slave. He had withstood things that no one should ever have been made to endure. Leaving that life had been far from simple. For years he had been on the run; always looking behind his back, subconsciously aware of the simplest shift of movements surrounding him. Constantly hiding, secluded, never able to relax or feel safe. He trusted no one and always assumed the worst of everyone. It was a defense mechanism that had saved his life, time and time again.

Finding Hawke had given him the chance to stop hiding. Slowly, over the past three years, he had been able to relax, little by little. Without being aware of it, he had begun to trust Hawke; there was something about her that made him feel safe. His feelings for her had been growing stronger and stronger for months. He had tried to fight it but, apparently, not hard enough. Despite what he had been through, nothing in his life had prepared him for these feelings. Logically, he knew that it was better if Hawke found someone else, if he let her go, but his heart was protesting in a way that he did not understand. Turning his back to her, and choosing to walk away, after having been so close to her, had been the single most difficult decision in his life...

_The easy distance between their homes, had felt like miles. His feet had been heavy, as he had willed himself not to turn around and go back to her. He had not slept at all. Instead, he had spent the remainder of the night, convincing himself that he had made the right decision; that it had truly been what was best for Hawke. When Bodahn had arrived at his house, earlier that morning with a note from her, he had been surprised and hopeful. His elation had been crushed immediately, with the simplicity of its contents; her normal genuine warmth, absent._

_Fenris,_

_I need your assistance today, if you are willing._

_- Hawke_

_The day had been busy and, unnaturally, uncomfortable. Hawke had not looked in his direction or spoken directly to him the whole day. It had been a slow kind of torture, as he had watched her hips sway in front of him; her red hair, down and dancing in the breeze, flashes of their moments together (only mere hours earlier) tugging at his mind and suffocating him with the realization that he would never be with her that way again._

"Sera Hawke?"

He snapped out of his thoughts and looked up to see a young Templar smiling at Hawke. There was something familiar about him. He watched as Hawke looked at the Templar confused and then smiled, as recognition lit up her face.

"Oh, wow! Keran—how are you?" She replied.

"I'm well! I wasn't sure if you would remember me."

Just then, Varric, Merrill, and Isabela returned to the table.

"You look older, but of course I remember you." Hawke added in her kind tone.

"Remember who?" Isabela interjected as she sat down. "Oh, I remember iyou/i!" Isabela exclaimed as she focused in on Keran and shot him a flirty smile before turning towards Merrill. "You do too, right Kitten?"

Suddenly it hit him; it was the Templar in training that he had helped Hawke rescue from a group of extremist blood mage's a few years back. They had put one of their own, undercover, at the local brothel and she was mind controlling her Templar clients, as a means to infiltrate abominations into their order.

Before Merrill could answer, he commented. "She remembers; there was a den full of blood mage's, just—like—her."

Merrill wrinkled her eyebrows at him, in frustration. I am _not_ like them and that's _not_ why I remember." she replied and then continued. "I remember because Hawke, Isabela, and I, talked about how nice of a body he had." Merrill said, triumphantly, while she folded her arms and jutted her chin away from him.

"That's right, Kitten; _that_ was a fun day." Isabela said, as she winked up at Keran. "Rescuing a beautiful, half naked, man always beats out the other boring stuff that we usually do." Isabela smiled slyly and then continued, "Do you need us to rescue you again, or just Hawke this time?" she added, in a sultry voice, while biting her lip as she teased Keran.

He watched as Hawke and Keran both blushed.

"I was very grateful for your timely rescue." He said, politely, and then turned and smiled shyly at Hawke.

He wanted to rip that smile off of his face! He was having definite second thoughts, as to why he had ever helped to save him.

"Actually, that was why I came over. I was hoping that I could buy you a drink?" Keran continued, and then added quickly: "...to show my gratitude, of course."

Hawke replied with a sweet smile. "Oh, that's very kind of you, but you don't need to do that."

His grin grew as he watched Keran's smile fade.

"Hawke let the pretty boy buy you a drink!" Isabela insisted.

He watched as Hawke looked at Isabela and then at him, allowing her eyes to rest in his for a second, before turning back to Keran.

"Keran, thank you..."

Anders interrupted before she could finish. "I don't remember seeing you here before." Anders stated, accusingly.

Keran turned towards Anders. "I don't usually come here. One of my friends was promoted today." Keran replied, as he gestured to a group of men, at a table, on the other side of the room.

"Oh, more Templar's... how fun." Anders replied, sarcastically.

Hawke quickly spoke up. "Keran, I'm sorry, I'm being rude; let me introduce you to my friends." She said as she gestured towards Anders first. "This is Anders."

He watched as Anders nodded, vaguely, without smiling.

"Varric is the one that just tipped back his mug… Merrill and Isabela, you have already met."

Merrill smiled and Isabela winked, as Keran bowed his head, slightly, to them.

"Fenris..." she said, gesturing towards him, without making eye contact, "you have met also; he was there that day as well."

Keran nodded politely at him but he didn't move or gesture in response. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and stared back at Keran without blinking. He watched, as Keran's forehead wrinkled in confusion back at him.

"Aveline, you probably know." Hawke said, as Keran reluctantly turned his gaze from him and smiled at Aveline.

"Yes, hello Guard Captain."

Aveline smiled, proudly, back at him. "It's nice to see you again, Keran." She shifted her eyes back to Hawke, as she finished her ale. "Hawke, it's getting late. I'm going to get back to the barracks." She said as she placed her empty mug on the table and stood up. She turned towards Keran and nodded, "Keran." She then turned her gaze to him, and the others, as she said her good nights. Just before Aveline exited she added, "As always, let me know when you need me, Hawke."

"Alright, Aveline. Thanks again for your help today!" Hawke replied, before the door closed behind her.

Anders spoke up, grabbing Keran's attention. "I thought that you Templars, celebrated in Hightown."

Keran paused and studied Anders for a moment. "Anders, right?" he asked, politely, before continuing, "My fellow comrades, know that I won't take a step inside of The Blooming Rose because of what happened to me." He turned his attention back to Hawke and smiled before continuing. "Also, my family lives close by. It gave me an excuse to stop in and spend some time with them."

"How is your sister?" Hawke asked, genuinely.

Keran's grin widened at Hawke's question. "Macha is well; I will tell her that you asked after her, she will be pleased." Hawke matched his smile and he watched, as Keran held her gaze, until she turned from him. "So, that is why we came here to celebrate." He continued.

"Shouldn't you be celebrating with them, then?" Anders asked, matter-of-factly.

He watched as Keran shifted his eyes, hesitantly, between him and Anders, before looking back at Hawke. "Um... yes, I should." He paused, slightly, before continuing. "Sera Hawke, it would be my honor, if you would allow me to introduce you to my friends."

Hawke smiled in response to his invitation. "I would like that." she replied politely.

He watched with irritation as Hawke moved in front of Keran, towards his table of friends, and Keran's eyes wandered the length of her body. When Keran introduced Hawke, he gently placed his palm on her lower back. Fenris clenched his jaw with escalating anger. Keran's friends gestured for her to sit down and join them, and Hawke glanced back at their table, for affirmation, which Isabela immediately responded to by nodding enthusiastically back at her. As Hawke joined the other table, Keran went to the bar and returned to his table with two ales. He sat stiff in his seat, observing as Hawke laughed with Keran and his friends, his blood boiling within his veins as Keran's eyes lit up, every time that Hawke looked at him. When Hawke would turn from Keran and talk to someone else, Keran would stare at her, longingly. It was sickening to view. Everything in him wanted to get up and leave, but something stronger would not allow it. One thing was for certain, he definitely had the urge to rip out a Templar's heart.

"It's him." Isabela stated, smugly.

He and the others stared back at her in confusion.

"That's who Hawke is messing around with… the hickey!" Without waiting for anyone to comment, Isabela continued. "It makes perfect sense; he's a Templar and she's an apostate mage, so they have to keep it quiet. No wonder she hasn't told anyone! I bet that they planned this for tonight, so that they could see each other—a secret rendezvous." Isabela sighed as she watched Hawke interact with Keran at the other table.

"How romantic." Merrill added doe eyed.

"Ooo Varric, give me the key to your room." Isabela said, as she opened her hand to him, without taking her eyes off of the table that Hawke was at.

Varric looked up at her from his mug. "Why do you want my key, Rivaini?" He asked, with a slight slur.

"I'm going to slip it to Hawke." she said, her eyes brightening, devilishly.

Before Varric could answer, he stood up. He could not take another moment of this, he needed to leave immediately.

Isabela looked up at him."You're leaving? But it's just about to get good!" She exclaimed, arching her eyebrows.

He clenched his fists. "I need to go."

Without relaxing his grip, or uttering another word, he turned towards the exit. Just before opening the door, Hawke looked up at him and held his gaze. This time, he was the one to cut off their eye contact as he moved forward and exited the bar.

(Fenris, Isabela, Varric, Merrill, Aveline, Anders and Keran © Bioware)


	11. Part 11 Hawke

**HAWKE**

Hawke allowed herself to follow Fenris, as his taut, stiff, body moved towards the exit of the bar. She held his gaze, for the first time that day, allowing him the chance to express something back at her; _anything_. She was so confused by him. Fenris wasn't the type to express his feelings with words; if he ever gave away anything, it was in his countenance. For several months she had been analyzing his gestures towards her, hoping that something would stand out as confirmation that he had felt the same way. The past few months, had been one very long tease of second guessing. Less than eighteen hours ago, he had finally given her the very look that she had been waiting for. His green eyes, darkened with an undoubted desire, were still perfectly visible in her mind.

For so long, she had yearned to be with him, to feel his touch on her skin, and his lips upon hers. Giving herself to him had been a natural progression to her own passion's unwilling dormancy. It had been, in a word, magical. For the first time, Fenris had removed his sturdy walls and with it, any hesitancy of revealing his feelings for her. Unguarded at last he had expressed and reflected the spectrum of his emotions, in a way that only lovers can. His uncharacteristic vulnerability, portrayed with sexual confidence, had been a welcome surprise. Every movement, touch, and gaze, had been so fluidly in sync; it had been as if they had been lovers for years, not mere moments. He had held her so effortlessly, careful, and lovingly. Never once had it felt awkward; it had only felt right, _perfectly_ right.

It wasn't until she had awaked to find him redressing and avoiding her gaze, that it had all become so real. It had been like waking to a nightmare; everything beautiful about their night, shattered by the obviousness that his emotional walls had been rebuilt and fortified. She could see that he was conflicted, but he was already closed off from her. She had felt powerless against his decisiveness. Trying to understand Fenris's emotional thinking was never her strong point. She had spent the rest of that night, and much of that day, inside of her head and trying to make some sense of his actions; in particular, his decision to leave her. She had not slept, she had not eaten; she had just felt numb. It wasn't until he had shown up to help her that her distress had fully set in.

As she, Merrill, Aveline, and Fenris had worked on locating some of the tips that Varric had given her, she had found herself experiencing a massive range of emotions, which was suddenly brought on by his presence. It had been exhausting, as she had struggled to remain composed to this foreign emotional anguish that had washed over her. Hurt, rejection, sadness, frustration, anger, and—even hate, had nagged at her, cycling repeatedly and fighting to consume her, at any given moment, if she didn't remain strong. His quiet demeanor and morose solitude, as he had trailed behind the rest of the group, had hardly helped.

As if sensing her pain, Titan bound into the bar, nearly knocking over the exiting drunk that was using the open door as a prop, as he whistled at Nora (the barmaid).

"No dogs!" The owner yelled over the bar, as Titan nuzzled his head up under her arm and licked her hand.

"I know; I'm so sorry!" she said as she stood, embarrassed, while she ushered Titan back outside. She ruffled Titan's mane, as she kneeled down, and hugged him close before pulling back and gazing into his eyes.

"Titan..." she said, slightly disappointed. You know that you can't go inside".

Titan howled in protest.

"I know, it's a stupid rule, especially because we know that you behave much better than any one of those drunks." She winked back as she patted his head consolingly.

Titan barked and pointed his nose into the air in agreement. She scratched the fur under his throat and then whispered into his ear. "I have an idea—how about; we sneak you into Varric's room?" She smiled as Titan's ears perked up and he began panting. "Ok, I will be right back, but you need to stay here!" she stated seriously as she gazed into his eyes.

Titan lay down, obediently, and lowered his head as he watched her stand. She smiled, lovingly, back at Titan as she opened the door,and just as she turned, she ran into Anders. Anders held her waist as she steadied herself.

"Oh, Anders, I'm sorry!"

With Anders' hands still softly upon her waist, he peered into her eyes. "Are you alright?"

"Oh, yes, I just wasn't paying attention." She admitted, waving off her absentmindedness.

Anders' finger tips remained upon her waist, his brown eyes locked within hers, steady and serious. "No—are _you_ alright?"

His obvious concern caught her off guard. The smile faded from her face as she moved her eyes from his, to the ground.

"Sera Hawke, is everything ok?"

Her eyes shot up to see Keran's eyes on Anders' finger tips that were still gently resting on her waist. She stepped away from Anders, releasing his touch.

"Oh, yes, everything is fine. I wasn't paying attention when I opened the door, and I ran into Anders; he helped steady me." She rambled, nervously; worried that Keran might get the wrong impression.

Keran smiled softly back at her. "I was afraid that you might have left."

She glanced at Anders and watched as he peered with disgust at Keran. She knew that he hated Templar's, but she liked Keran and was worried that he might notice, so she held his attention as she replied.

"I wouldn't leave without saying good bye" she stated kindly and then continued "Actually, I think it's my turn to buy a round."

She focused on Keran's lips as his smile widened. He had nice, pink lips. His lower lip was slightly fuller than his top and looked enticingly soft.

Suddenly, Anders spoke, pulling her attention away from Keran's lips. "I figured you may be tired; I was going to walk you home."

"Oh, uh, thanks Anders, but I think that I will stay for a while longer."

There was something in his brown eyes that she couldn't place. He looked worried, no, that wasn't it. Something deep within that golden brown pulled her in. She began to feel warm and her cheeks began to flush. For the first time that day, she didn't have any thoughts, she just felt content. Time seemed to stand still as she remained lost in Anders' soft brown eyes.

"I will make sure that Sera Hawke gets home safely."

Keran's words broke her trance. She had to blink her eyes, a few times, to regain composure. Perhaps she was more buzzed than she had thought. After all, she had not eaten anything all day. "Thank you Keran, that is very kind of you."

Keran smiled sweetly back at her.

She turned towards Anders and he briefly looked at her before moving forward. His arm brushed slightly against hers as he walked past her, while he stated his departing words. "I'll see you later then, Hawke."

There wasn't enough time for her to respond, before he had disappeared through the exit. She turned and stared at the hearty oak door in front of her, confused by his sudden retreat. She released her gaze upon it and locked her fixation in the light sky blue of Keran's kind eyes. A grin lifted on the left side of his face, pulling her attention back to his lips. It was then that she decided—she was done being confused; she was done thinking, period. She smiled back at him with a renewed resolve and a twinkle in her eyes. Keran wasn't confusing at all. In fact, he was a perfect distraction from the emotional madness that threatened to take over her thoughts.

"I think it's time for that next round." She stated, playfully, as she turned and moved towards the bar.

(Fenris, Anders, Isabela, Merrill, Varric, Keran, and Nora © Bioware


	12. Part 12 Isabela

**ISABELA**

It was that time of night, again. Varric was in full blown story mode. When he was drunk, he liked to use a particular technique to pull people in. Isabela liked to tease him, when he was sober, and would playfully refer to it as the "Boom and Ensnare". He would start off telling his story in his regular voice, and then when he got to the action parts, his voice would thicken and reverberate around the room with intensity. She always enjoyed watching the customers stop conversing amongst themselves and then turn towards Varric—ensnared. It wasn't long before the scraping of bar stools, being dragged across the wooden floor, echoed across the room. It always amazed Isabela, how he could easily bring in a crowd by eliciting the attention of the entire room; he really did have a gift. Normally, she would be just as entranced in his story, but today she was far more interested in Hawke.

She watched as Hawke made her way to the bar; Keran's eyes resting on Hawke's hips, as he followed behind her. It was adorable how enamored he was with her. She glanced over at the table of Keran's friends, and caught a young Templar watching her. He had dark brown hair, and light green eyes that smiled back at her when she caught his gaze. She smiled slyly, in return, and then turned towards Merrill. Merrill was immersed in Varric's story, and didn't even acknowledge her when she called her name. She gently poked her, to get her attention.

"Kitten, let's go join Hawke."

"Oh, but he's just getting to the good part!" Merrill added, as she turned her attention back to Varric.

"Merrill, you were there when this happened _and_ you've heard it at least half a dozen times."

Merrill didn't remove her eyes from Varric as she replied. "He's made some changes, it's very exciting!"

She grabbed Merrill's hand and pulled her out of the chair. Merrill pouted back at her, disapprovingly, as she was pulled towards the bar where Hawke and Keran were waiting for their order to be filled. "This will be fun, Kitten, I promise." Keran was gathering the two pitchers of ale, which the bartender had placed on the counter, as she and Merrill reached Hawke. "Oh, Hawke, how did you know that I was thirsty?"

Hawke looked up at her and replied, playfully, back. "When are you not thirsty, Isabela?"

She smiled back at her. She was happy to see Hawke in a good mood; she had seemed so distant the past few days.

"...and it's not for you, it's for Keran and his friends." Hawke added.

"You are both welcome to join us, if you would like." Keran added, politely.

Her smile widened back at him and with pretend surprise in her voice, she replied. "Oh, thank you, that's so kind of you." She shifted her eyes to Merrill, in pretense, and asked her, "Shall we join them, Kitten?" Merrill looked back at Isabela, confused.

Hawke rolled her eyes and then smiled as she answered her question, before Merrill could. "Go sit down, you two, I'll get another pitcher."

As Hawke added on to her order, Keran carried the two full pitchers to his table and introduced Merrill to his friends. She remained standing next to Hawke, turning Varric's key over in her fingers.

"I have something for you."

Hawke looked up at her, with curiosity and she turned her palm up to Hawke, gesturing for her to remove the key that was secured between her middle and forefinger.

"Is this Varric's room key?" Hawke asked as she focused in on it.

She lifted her eyebrows with a slight smile on her lips.

"How did you know?" Hawke exclaimed as she removed the key from her fingers, "...I was just going to ask him for this."

Her smile widened. "I know; I'm not blind, Hawke." She winked and then added, coyly, "Don't do anything that I wouldn't do!"

Hawke wrinkled her eyebrows, perplexed and before she could say anything, Isabela turned her back to her and walked towards the table of Templars. Keran stood, and introduced her to the group of men. He pointed, first, to the youngest looking of the group. He had short red hair and dark brown eyes; he couldn't have been more than twenty.

"This is Channing..." She watched as the mention of his name, made Channing reluctantly tear his eyes from Merrill, whom he had been deep in conversation with. He nodded, politely, and then quickly turned his attention back to Merrill.

"Drake is there..." He said, pointing to the young brunette, with light green eyes, that she had caught staring at her moments earlier. Drake smiled, an air of confidence in his countenance, as he nodded slightly while holding her gaze.

_Hmmm... This one, I like._

"Last, but not least, this is _Sir_ Edward." Keran said, sportively, accentuating the 'Sir'. "It's Edward's Knighthood, which we are celebrating tonight."

"Ah—Congratulations!" she stated, before turning back to Drake whose eyes were still, steadily, focused in on her.

Hawke moved in next to her and placed the third pitcher on to the table, as she sat down next to Keran. Isabela glanced around, suddenly aware that there were no empty seats. Drake stood. He was tall, easily over six feet. He wasn't wearing his gloves and she could see the defined muscles of his forearms, accentuated in his bronze skin. He spoke, his voice deep, with a distinct Orlesian accent.

"Isabela, please take my seat, I will find another." He said, as he gestured for her to sit down in the newly empty chair.

She smiled back at him, as she sat down in his seat and watched him as he strode across the room, picked up the heavy oak chair with ease, and then brought it back towards the table. His eyes smiled back at her, as he placed his new chair within inches of hers.

By the time that all three pitchers were empty, she had her legs draped across Drake's lap and her face nearly touching his, as they flirted back and forth. Sir Edward stood, swaying as he attempted to steady himself.

"Well, men, thank you, but... I... am... ssspent."

Everyone laughed as they watched Sir Edward attempt to walk.

"_Spent_, isn't what I would call it." Channing replied, playfully.

"Quiet, pup!—hic—It'sss _Sssir Edward_ to—hic—you!" Edward barked back at him, slurring his words as he slumped against the wall and used it to prop himself up, as he attempted to make his way to the door.

She watched as Keran stood and turned towards Hawke. "Sera Hawke, I had better help him. We are all staying at my family's home tonight. It isn't far from here, will you wait? I will be right back..."

She had been so immersed in Drake, that she had entirely forgotten her original purpose for being there. She watched intently, anxious to hear Hawke's response.

"Actually, I'll go with you. Titan can warn us of troub..." Hawke's words trailed off as she quickly glanced back at the door. "Titan! Maker, I completely forgot about Titan!"

"Who's Titan?" Channing asked.

Isabela smiled, she wasn't the only one listening in to Keran and Hawke's conversation. The whole table was staring at the pair.

"The cutest Mabari, _ever_!" Merrill answered her cheeks rosy and flushed from the ale.

"Not as cute as you." Channing responded, with a flirtatious smile.

Merrill squished her nose and furrowed her eyebrows before responding back in drunken confusion. "Well of course not, I'm an elf, not a Mabari!"

Channing stumbled over his words in response. "No, I meant..."

Merrill cut him off, as she finished her train of thought. "If you saw him, you would never think another Mabari was cuter. Well, that is, if he likes you; he might not like you."

Channing looked at her, speechless.

Merrill stared back at him, paused, and then whispered. "I missed something dirty, didn't I?"

Hawke and Isabela laughed in unison.

"No, Kitten, you didn't." she said, as she reached out and rubbed Merrill's arm, consolingly.

Merrill looked back at her and then to Channing, who still had a look of confused dejection upon his face. "Oh..." Merrill said, clearly trying to make sense of what she must have missed.

"Merrill... Why don't you take Channing to meet Titan?" Hawke said, smiling encouragingly at her.

"Yes, Channing, I am going to need your help getting iSir/i Edward back to my place." Keran added, stifling his laugh as he gestured to a table, next to the exit, where Edward had passed out. Everyone laughed as they stood, but she remained seated.

"Isabela, aren't you coming?" Merrill asked, concerned.

"I've already met Titan, Kitten. I think I'll stay." she replied.

"Then I must stay and keep you company, no?" Drake said, as he sat back down in his seat.

"Mmhmm." she said with an alluring grin, while she stretched her legs back out onto his lap.

Merrill moved hesitantly away from her and she watched as Keran and Channing roused Sir Edward and looped their arms within his, steadying him the best that they could, while Hawke held the door open for them. She could hear Hawke apologizing profusely to Titan for making him wait so long, while Titan howled back at her in complaint.

"Look, Titan, I have the key." Hawke said, in a hopeful tone, trying to console her war hound.

Just as the door closed, she could hear Titan barking enthusiastically, while Keran asked, "What key?"

She could vaguely make out Hawke's response. "I'll show you when we get back."

She, absentmindedly, looked back at Drake, pulled in by his fixated gaze upon her. While she had been watching the humorous antics, of the rest of the group, he had been watching her. She focused in on his lips. "You have an amazing mouth." She said, getting straight to the point.

A smile tugged at the sides of his lips. "As do you." He paused, and shifted his eyes from hers, to her lips. "Do you want me to show you what I can do with my mouth, Isabela?"

She smiled and bit her lower lip. "_Absssolutely_", she purred back at him.

Drake lowered his face until his mouth met hers. He kissed her, gently, caressing his smooth lips against her own. As she kissed him back, he followed her lead, allowing her to set the pace. He moved his right hand behind her neck and pulled her in closer, increasing the pressure of his lips upon hers. She opened her mouth, slightly, allowing him to lightly suck on her upper lip. She caressed her tongue against his lower lip, signaling for him to intensify their kiss; which he did.

He pulled her off of her seat, so that she was fully seated on his lap and moved his tongue against hers, softly, but with increased passion. She was lost in his kiss, allowing herself to just feel and respond to the increasing heat between their bodies as they tasted each other. He slowly removed his mouth from hers, kissing her neck with heated intensity. She dropped her head back, lengthening her neck, as she basked in the pleasant tingling sensation that his lips against her neck induced. He moved to her ears, nibbling softly on her lobe, and then whispered with a husky lust that thickened his accent, "Isabela, let me show you what else my mouth can do."

(Isabela, Varric, Merrill and Keran © Bioware)


	13. Part 13 Hawke

**HAWKE**

Hawke trailed behind Keran and Channing, as they slowly moved forward, struggling to support Sir Edwards weight. Their strong arms wrapped around his bulging waistline, heaving him forward as they joked and laughed amongst themselves. The tips of Sir Edward's feet dragged against the dirt, leaving a dark trail in the rich earth, as his arms draped limply over each of his supporter's shoulders. She couldn't tell if he was passed out, since he was mumbling under his breath (none of which she could make out), but she was grateful for the slow pace. Only now, as she was concentrating to maintain her balance, did she realize just how much the lack of food and sleep was enabling the alcohol to magnify.

"Hawke, I'm getting sleepy, I think I'm going to go home."

Channing stopped, dead in his tracks, halting Keran's forward motion. He turned slightly to the right, twisting Sir Edwards's arm into an awkward position. "Wait, Merrill, I'll walk you! Just give me a minute to..."

Merrill interrupted him, absentmindedly. "Oh, no, that's a bad idea." She watched as the smile faded from Channing's face and was replaced with a look of dejection as Merrill continued to rattle on. "You would probably get jumped." She added, nonchalantly. "For the longest time, I thought that it was a special alienage greeting, but it turns out that it means that they don't like you. They do it a lot to humans."

There was a long, motionless, silence before Channing replied. "Oh. Maybe another time, then..."

"Probably not, they will always want to mug you. It was nice meeting you Channing and you, Sir Edward." There was a small mumble from Edward's lips as Channing gaped back at her. "Keran, it was quite nice to see you again, as well." Keran nodded and smiled over his shoulder. "Good night, Hawke."

"Night Merrill; do you want Titan to go with you?"

Merrill lit up, "Oh, yes!"

She knelt down and scratched the fur on Titan's cheeks. "Take her home and then meet me at the back door of the tavern, ok?"

Titan barked back, in acknowledgement, and then pranced off next to Merrill. Once he was by her side, he jutted his chest out in a defensive, protective, stance and trotted off with her in the direction of the alienage.

The three stood motionless as Channing followed them with his eyes. "Great, she will let the dog walk her home."

Keran laughed. "Better luck next time, mate. C'mon, my shoulder is starting to go numb."

Channing turned reluctantly, back in the direction of Keran's house and set forward. When they reached the house, she waited outside as Keran and Channing got Sir Edward settled down. She raised her eyebrows with curiosity, when Keran came back out, by himself, and shut the door behind him.

"Where's Channing?"

"He decided to go to sleep. I think that he took Merrill's rejection a little too hard."

She laughed lightly. "I don't think that she knew that she was rejecting him; she was probably completely clueless that he was even interested in her."

Keran looked at her surprised, "Really?"

She giggled. "Yes. Merrill was raised among the Dalish and is very innocent about a lot of things. She's only been in Kirkwall for three years and she's starting to catch on some, thanks to Isabela, but..." she had gotten so caught up in what she was saying that she had forgotten to concentrate on keeping her balance. She tripped over a small rock and nearly fell, when Keran grabbed her arm and pulled her in against his chest.

She looked up into his pale blue eyes and watched as a flicker of desire skittered across his iris. "Are you alright?" He whispered, as he shifted his eyes to her lips.

Without thinking, she quickly pulled out of his arms. "Uh—thank you! I've had more to drink than I should have." she said, as she steadied herself and moved forward towards the entrance to the bar.

Keran cleared his throat, as he collected himself, and remained silent as they made their way back to the bar. She stared at the path in front of her, lost in her thoughts. Why had she pulled away? Didn't she want him to kiss her? Wasn't that the whole point of spending this time with Keran? Forgetting about her hurt and worries; forgetting about…_him_? She released a frustrated sigh.

"Sera Hawke, are you alright?" Keran asked, with such sweet sincerity, that she found herself, once again, at a standstill and gazing up into his ice blue eyes.

_No._

"Yes, I'm fine." She responded, trying to sound convincing, as she mustered a small smile and continued to walk forward.

Keran arched his eyebrow, suspiciously. "You know, I am a really great listener." He said, the left side of his cheek dimpling into a half smile.

She laughed at the gesture and smiled genuinely back at him. "Keran, that's kind of you, but the last thing that I want to do, is talk." She regretted her wording immediately, as she watched the smile fade from his face and quickly perked up, in an attempt to change the subject. "Have you seen the rooms at The Hanged Man?"

Keran laughed. "Yes, they are ghastly!"

She stopped moving and turned towards him. "You have?"

She watched as Keran struggled to back track. "Uh... well…"

She giggled. "Never mind, I don't need to know." She added, in a teasing tone. "I know that you haven't seen Varric's room, though. It's actually, very nice and..." she grabbed the key out of her pocket and dangled it in front of his face, with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I have the key. Do you want to see the room?"

"I would love to." He replied with a large smile on his face as he pushed the door, to the pub, open with his back.

As they stepped into the bar, she glanced over in the direction of the table where they had been sitting. Isabela was on Drake's lap, the two locked in a very passionate kiss.

"Well, that didn't take long."

She glanced up him, in response to his voice and saw that he was taking in the same scene that she had just beheld. She glanced back at Isabela and snickered, "When Isabela knows what she wants, it never does."

"What's that like?" Keran said, more to himself than an actual question, his eyes still fixated on Isabela and Drake.

"I have no clue." she added, just as entranced.

Keran turned towards her and wrinkled his eyebrows. "Don't you?"

The question caught her completely off guard. "What do you mean?"

Keran peered into her eyes, his yearning clearly accentuated by the seriousness of his gaze. "Hawke, you are strong, kind, beautiful... you could have anyone that you wanted."

She could feel her cheeks growing warm and moved backwards to use the wall as support as she fought off a dizzy spell. She shifted her eyes to the ground and sighed. _No, not anyone_. She had not realized that he had moved in next to her body until his fingertips were upon her chin, gently moving her face up to meet his. He peered into her eyes for, what felt like, forever. He seemed to be searching for an answer in her eyes. It felt intrusive, but exciting all at once. With his hand on her chin and her back against the wall, she had nowhere to go. Her mind was swarming with turmoil and conflict and she couldn't decide whether or not she wanted him to kiss her. He began to slowly move his head towards hers, when Isabela's voice interrupted him.

"I thought that was your red hair behind the—oh, did I...?"

"No!" she said, quickly, as she slipped to the side of Keran and moved away from the wall. In a gentler tone, she continued. "No, um, we just got back."

Isabela glanced from her to Keran. "Just the two of you?"

"Merrill was tired..."

"And so was Channing." Keran added.

Isabela studied the pair and then took her by the arm. "Keran, can I borrow Hawke for a second, I need to ask her a quick question?" Keran nodded, politely, and then made his way towards the table that Drake was still seated at. He was barely out of ear shot, when Isabela turned towards her and stretched her hand out expectantly, demanding with impatience, "I need that key!"

"What? Varric's key?" she asked, confused.

"Yes, of course, Varric's key!" Isabela stated, with slight irritation.

"Don't you have your own room?"

"Yes, but it's complete rubbish; Varric's room is much nicer!" Isabela leaned forward, as if she were going to search her pockets and she stepped away from her, defensively.

"What? No! You gave it to _me_ and I just told Keran that I would show him the room."

"Maker, you two are taking forever!" she sighed. "Fine, go _show_ him the room, but be quick about it!" She squinted her eyes back at Isabela, perplexed. "I'll have Drake help me put Varric in my room, then—I want that key!" She glanced over to where Isabela had gestured, Varric was passed out, cold, on the table.

As Isabela turned her back to her, she stated her thoughts out loud. "Are you always this bossy and impatient when you're horny?"

Isabela whipped her head around, smiling wickedly. "Do you like it, Hawke?" She said, slowly turning her body back towards her. "Do you want to join us? Keran could come too..." She added coyly as she moved back towards her with a sultry sway in her hips. Hawke stood silently still, mystified by her invitation, as Isabela stared back at her expectantly. Suddenly Isabela burst into laughter. "Hawke, I'm joking… sort of, maybe, don't bring Keran." She relaxed and laughed as Isabela winked playfully back at her. "And to answer your question—Yes! When a beautiful man tells me that he wants to pleasure me with his mouth, I get _very_ impatient. So be quick!"

"Thanks for the visual." she mummbled, under her breath, as Isabela turned from her, once more.

Without glancing back, Isabela replied, nonchalantly, "You are so very welcome."

She laughed and shook her head to herself as she watched Isabela swagger back to the table. Keran and Drake had been deep in conversation, but cut off quickly as Isabela neared them. Keran met her gaze and smiled at her has he stood. She welcomed his smile and lifted her eyebrows questioningly as she gestured towards the back of the pub. He nodded and they met half way on the other side of the room.

She placed the key in the door and opened it, allowing Keran to step into the room first. As soon as she followed in behind him, he pulled her into his arms and pushed the door closed. She looked up at him, surprised, and protested "The key..." Keran cupped her face in his large hands and kissed her before she could finish the sentence. His lips were gentle and moved with sweet caution against hers, as he waited for a response. She tensed and hesitated, as his lips roamed softly over hers, but then relaxed, succumbing to the feeling as she let go of her inhibitions and kissed him back. As she moved her lips against his, Keran slid his right arm down behind her neck and ran his fingers through her hair, deepening their kiss as he pulled her upper lip into his mouth. She closed her eyes, to drink in the sensation, but behind the blackness of her closed eyelids, was someone else entirely.

Memories of last night rushed into her thoughts and she could see and feel him perfectly, Fenris. It was all there, crystal clear in her mind, his lips upon hers with ferocious urgency; the euphoric sensation of his mouth, exploring the softness of her bare skin; the intense passion that he poured through her, while he was deep inside of her. A soft, deep groan, escaped Keran's lips, snapping Hawke back to reality. Her tongue was inside of his mouth, moving against his with heated fervor. His right hand was tangled within her hair at the nape of her neck, while his left hand dug into her lower hip. He was pressed hard against her, his excitement obvious. She opened her eyes, quickly, and released from his mouth. Keran didn't recover so quickly. He hesitantly opened his eyes, clearly fighting against his disorientation.

She began to fumble over her words as she searched for an excuse to explain her abruptness. "I—umm—I forgot—Titan! He's, uh—he's waiting for me to open the back door and let him in because I—promised!"

Keran paused for a moment and stepped away from her as he attempted to regain composure. "Oh..."

"I should... go to him." She added, turning quickly away from his confused gaze as she opened the door and hastily walked out.

Titan was balled up, outside of the back door, obediently waiting for her. At the sight of her, he stood and began panting excitedly. She bent over and scratched his head. "You are such a good boy! Did Merrill make it back safe?" Titan barked and wagged his tail to convey that she had. She sat down and gathered his face into her hands, cooing into his eyes. "Of course you got her home safe. You are the toughest, scariest, and meanest Mabari!" Titan growled, with pretend menace, and then barked loud in agreement. She laughed and kneaded the fur under his ears. "I have bad news, boy, Isabela wants that key." Titan lifted his head and howled in protest. "I know, but you know how she can be!" Titan dropped his head and let out a low throaty growl. She draped her arm around his frame and laid her head against his, apologetically. "You have waited so long and so patiently..." She paused for a slight moment as a thought came to her. "I know how to make it up to you! You can sleep on my bed with me tonight. How does that sound?" When Titan didn't respond, she turned her cheek to look into his eyes and then followed his gaze up to the doorway, where Keran was standing.

"That's one lucky dog." Keran said, as he smiled down at her.

Titan barked and then wagged his tail in agreement.

"Oh, Keran..."

Before she could continue, Keran cut her off. "Do you mind if I sit with you?"

She scooted over a bit, as she responded. "No, please do." She sighed and then looked down at her feet in the dirt, as she gathered her thoughts. "Keran, I need to apologize..."

Keran interrupted her as he sat down next to her. "Hold on, you're not going to tell me that you shouldn't have kissed me, are you?" He inhaled deeply, "...because I thought, that it was pretty amazing."

"Oh, no, it was… really nice. I'm just, kind of, confused right now..." She paused and shifted uncomfortably, took a deep breath, and kicked at the dirt as she searched for the words to say. Keran sat perfectly still, waiting patiently for her to continue. "I was trying not to think about—something, but it appears that no amount of alcohol _or_ distraction, seems to be helping."

"I take it, I am the _distraction_?"

She glanced up at Keran, worried that she may have offended him, but then relaxed and giggled when she saw that he had a proud half-smile on his face. "Yes."

"Does this have something to do with that?"

She tried to follow where his finger was pointing, and looked back at him, puzzled. Keran reached over, moved her hair to the side, and gently caressed the spot where the hickey was. She could feel her face flushing red. "You saw that?"

He laughed. "You play with your hair a lot. I've been trying to convince myself all evening that it was just an oddly placed bruise."

She dropped her eyes back to the ground. "Yes… it has to do with that."

There was a long stretch of uncomfortable silence and then Keran spoke. "I figured that there was something there. The way that he looked at you… the way that he looked at me."

Her head shot up. "What?"

"Tonight, when I first came over to your table, I knew that there was something between you two. There was a distinct possessiveness in his attitude towards you."

"All of my friends are pretty protective..."

"It wasn't that kind of protectiveness. He hardly took his eyes off of you. I kept catching him watching us." This time, it was Keran that dropped his eyes to the ground.

She inhaled and exhaled deeply. "Well, it's over." she whispered.

Keran lifted his eyes and peered into hers. "Anders is a fool, if he let you go."

She straightened up, perplexed. "Anders?"

Keran looked back at her, confused. "Wasn't that his name?"

"No, Anders is the one with blonde hair in a ponytail..." Keran nodded, in agreement and she shook her head. "Oh! No—Anders is just a friend!"

Keran creased his eyebrows together, baffled. "Really, huh... well, he definitely wants to be more." Hawke drew silent as she tried to register what Keran was implying. "I could have sworn… so who were you..." As if a light bulb had gone on in his head, Keran's eyes lit up with realization "The elf—Fenris?"

She didn't say anything. Instead, she dropped her eyes from his and kicked at the dirt again. Keran paused, lost in his thoughts, and then continued his train of thought. "Huh, I thought that he was just unfriendly but now I see it."

Without lifting her eyes, she commented. "Fenris is just closed off. Once you get to know him..." She trailed off; it was too painful to even speak of him.

Keran placed his hand on hers, gently. "Forgive me for saying so, but clearly he's mad."

She gazed up into Keran's sky blue eyes and gave him a half-smile. She was lost there, for a second, when suddenly a realization hit her. "The key, it's still in the door!" She stood up abruptly and moved with haste towards Varric's room, with Keran and Titan following closely behind her. The door was propped open, slightly, the key still in the handle. She looked back at Keran, questioningly.

He shrugged and mouthed in barely a whisper. "I can't remember if I closed it."

She grumbled, underneath her breath. "Maker, Varric will have my head, if anything is missing!"

She steadied herself and willed her inebriated mind to cooperate as she concentrated on funneling her magic. If there was someone in the room, she had to be ready for the worst. As she and Keran crept slowly into the room and rounded the corner, she could hear heavy breathing. She and Keran stood, motionless, as they took in the scene before them. Drake was laying on the bed, shirtless, his trousers undone. Twisted around his right wrist, were Isabela's black intimates. Her tunic was hiked up around her waist as her legs straddled his head. She gyrated against him as Drake's fists tightly gripped her exposed backside, pushing her with quickened force against his face. As if they had walked in on cue, Isabela peaked and screamed out in rapture.

(Keran, Merrill and Isabela © Bioware)


	14. Part 14 Isabela

**ISABELA**

Isabela watched as Drake conversed with the bartender while he waited for their order. As if he could feel her eyes upon him, he turned, caught her gaze and winked back at her. She smiled seductively at him, holding him in a lustful hypnosis. His smile faded and his eyes darkened, lasciviously. From the corner of her eyes, she caught a flash of red and out of natural instinct, she automatically turned. She was used to the peripheral image of Hawke's flaming red hair because she often strategized her next move of attacks, based on Hawke's positioning. In order to work as a cohesive unit, they typically picked one opponent off at a time. However, in the midst of battle and against many foes, things could become intense and confusing. Often times, it was difficult to denote friend from foe and Hawke's sun blazed hair was an easy pinpoint in the thick of battle.

As she subconsciously turned towards the flicker of color, she barely caught a glimpse of the ends of Hawke's flowing red hair (before it disappeared, behind the wall, on the opposite side of the bar). Within seconds, she watched as Keran followed, quickly, after her. She glanced back at Drake and raised her index finger while she mouthed "one moment" and then stood and made her way to Varric's room. The door was shut, but the key remained in the door handle. She opened it, slowly, and then called out Hawke's name. After a brief pause of silence, she opened it fully and walked in scouting the room to make sure that it was empty. As she turned, she ran into Drake. The two mugs of ale that he was gripping, in both fists, sloshed over the tops and spilled down the fronts of both of their shirts.

She began laughing. "Oh, shit! I'm sorry!"

Drake laughed with her, pausing briefly. "No, it is my fault for sneaking in behind you."

Her eyes wandered from his smiling green eyes to his drenched shirt. "Well, we can't have you in a wet shirt, now can we?"

With a menacing look in her eyes, she grabbed the mugs from his hands and set them on the table beside her. She turned back towards him and grabbed the hem of his shirt, pushing the linen fabric up, slowly, as she took her time gliding her hands over the defined, cut muscles of his waist. Her eyes wandered up the bronze rippling lines of his tight stomach until she reached his chest, then she stopped. With the light tan cloth of his shirt, bunched in her fists, she peered up into his eyes; his natural pale green coloring had darkened to match the degree of his desire. Drake lowered his head and kissed her, fiercely, pausing only long enough to help her get his shirt completely over his head. He pulled her in next to his bare chest, pressing the small of her back tight against him as he kissed her with a ravenous appetite. He led her, in the direction of the bed, as his right hand moved, roughly, up the curves of her body until her voluptuous breast was tight within his grasp. Isabela broke away from his mouth, gasping with pleasure.

He peered down at her cleavage and rubbed his fingers against the nubs of her hardened nipple beneath the wet fabric. "Your shirt is also wet." he whispered; his accent thickened with carnal desire.

He undid the laces on her corset, peering into her eyes as he loosened their restriction on her ample bosoms. He moved his mouth to her neck, nibbling and biting with a requited urgency as his right hand moved with haste and pulled at the strings, loosening them until her breasts fell free. He took her breasts into his hands, gripping them tightly, as he nipped at her neck. Isabela rubbed against his trousers, feeling the effect of what her body did to his. She reveled in the thickness of his engorged shaft, as she massaged him through the restricting fabric of his pants. She hastily moved her hands upwards, wrestling with the ties on his trousers, aching to free him so that she could feel the soft flesh of his hardened erection within her grasp.

Drake moved his lips to her ear and whispered softly against it, "Isabela, let me please _you_."The sensation sent a tingling flutter to cascade down her neck.

He moved his hands to her hips and pulled her forward roughly, as he sat back on the bed behind him, until she was kneeling on the edge, straddling him. Her breasts were directly over his face, her nipples pointing directly at his lips. Drake took her perky, dark, nipple into his mouth while his left hand played with her free breast, pinching her nipple gently between his thumb and forefinger as he sucked harder against the one in his mouth. Isabela moaned in pleasure while digging her fingers deep into the back of his neck.

With a heated urgency, he moved his hands down the curves of her body and slipped his hands under her tunic. He moved up the softness of her legs and over the curves of her hips, reaching back until the roundness of her rear was firmly within his grip. He continued playing with her nipple in his mouth, his right hand moving tortuously slow as his fingertips moved over her hip bone before tracing down the soft skin of her inner thigh. She shivered beneath his touch as he rubbed his fingers against the heat between her legs.

She could feel the fabric of her lingerie moistening against his rhythmic massaging and yearned to be rid of them. In sync with her thoughts, he moved his hands back to her hips, tugging at the small strings of fabric as he pulled her panties down. He released her nipple from his mouth and she hurriedly lifted each knee, allowing him to free her of the unwanted garment. He moved his hands, quickly, back up to the lusciousness of her backside, wasting no time as he feverishly pulled her down on top of him. She caught a glimpse of her tiny black intimates, still dangling around his right wrist as he used the strength in his arms to push her upwards while his lips trailed down the natural womanly lines of her midsection. He moved his mouth down enticingly slow, as his tongue inched over her lower stomach, stopping only to kiss the soft ridge above her lower lips.

He worked his way down further, trailing his mouth over her warmth. She bit down on her lip, in anticipation, as she spread her legs further over his face, using the strength in her legs to position herself where she wanted him to kiss. He gripped her ass, in both of his fists, as his lips explored her silky crevices. He took his time, teasing her as he licked her, softly, while purposely avoiding her clit. She gyrated against him, pushing her hips in a forward motion, while pleading with him through escalating moans. She could feel the flush in her face as her clit throbbed with eagerness. At last, he took her sensitive, pink hood into his mouth and sucked softly, causing her to shudder against the sensation. She arched her back, bracing her hands back against the mattress as she pushed harder against his face, thrusting her hips as he sucked deeper.

Drake moved his hands to her breasts, squeezing them with unabashed roughness until Isabela cried out. The pain of it swirled in with the pleasure, pulling her to the edge of climax. Drake sensed this and quickly moved his hands back to her hips, pulling her against him faster as her movement lessened, allowing her to focus in on the sensation. Her eyes glassed over, as the color of fire appeared in her peripheral vision. She turned her head, slightly, just in time to take in Hawke and Keran's motionless figures before her eyes rolled back into her head. She screamed out in ecstasy as her body writhed against Drake in waves of euphoric gratification. She moved her hips back, resting on Drake's chest, as she basked in the pleasure that encompassed her. She steadied her breathing and then turned her head towards her watchers.

She smiled wickedly, snapping the two out of their stupor. "Oh, Hawke, you took me up on my offer, and you brought...Keran."

Drake shot up into a sitting position and ran the back of his wrist, gently across his lips.

In unison, Keran and Hawke fumbled for words.

"The door was ajar..."

"I'm sorry mate, we didn't..."

"The key..."

"... we thought..."

"... was in the door..."

"... a robber ..."

She accentuated her sigh, as she pushed her breasts back into her bodice. "You two are no fun!"

"Uh… we will wait outside." Hawke said, as she grabbed Keran's hand and quickly disappeared around the corner.

She looked down at Drake, and the two burst into laughter at the same time.

"They got a show; didn't they, my dear?" Drake said, his eyes flashing, devilishly, back at her.

"They certainly did." She replied, as she moved her mouth down to his and kissed him, tasting herself upon his lips.

Drake released from her kiss, his eyes still closed, and let out an accentuated sigh. He carefully moved her off of his lap, stood, and fastened his trousers.

"What are you doing? I'm not done with you!" she exclaimed, shocked that he had moved from her.

Drake stopped searching for his shirt, leaned over the bed, and kissed her lips. Her fingers trailed down to his pants, untying what he had just redone. He groaned and reluctantly pulled away from her. "Isabela… believe me, I want you, but I must go."

"What? Why are you suddenly in such a hurry?" she protested, pouting her lips in disapproval.

Drake chuckled as he pulled his shirt over his head. "I want to see you again, very soon."

She bit her lip and crawled on the bed towards him, allowing her breasts to fall out of her loosened blouse. "You see me now."

Drake moved to her, took her breasts into his hands, and kissed her intensely. He pulled away slowly and peered into her eyes. "Can I not, just please you tonight?"

She didn't know how to fight with that logic. "But I want you—inside of me— _now_!"

Drake hesitantly pulled away from her and stood upright. "You are not going to make this easy, are you?"

She stood from the bed, moved in next to his body, and trailed her fingers down his chest as she whispered, "No."

Drake gently removed her hands and cupped them into his as he softly shook his head at her.

She exhaled, deeply. "You really aren't going to let me fuck you?"

A smile lifted on the right side of Drake's face, causing his cheek to dimple. "I hope that you will, my dear, just not tonight."

She didn't like the sound of that. She knew where this was heading; if he wanted another night with her, he would certainly want more afterwards. She glared at him in frustration. She didn't want to wait another night she wanted him right at that moment! She wanted him inside of her, their bodies intertwined, until the extent of the night's agonizing foreplay was sated in mutual ecstasy, _then_, she wanted to be done with him.

"Isabela..." Drake whispered, his accent barely noticeable, as his eyes pleaded with her.

She looked back at him defiantly and he moved in to kiss her, which she rejected by moving her head to the side. He kissed her neck instead, sending ripples of pleasure throughout her body. He knew exactly how to make her body respond to him.

He slowly moved from her, until her eyes were locked within his. "If I did not have to go, I would stay and pleasure you all night, but it must be another night." His green eyes remained upon her, seducing her with his gaze as he moved away from her. "Think about it, my dear." He said in departure, before disappearing behind the wall.

She listened as he shut the door behind him and cursed under her breath. iTemplars and their damned control!/i She fell back on to the bed and stared up at the ceiling, her body ripe and yearning for more. All she could think about, where Drake's fierce, lustful, green eyes. Suddenly, an idea hit her with force. She did know another, with vibrant green eyes. Fenris had seemed rather tense, the past few days. Perhaps he needed a release as well.

The idea swirled in her mind, as she attempted to turn it into rational thought. She had always been curious about the broody elf's sexuality. Would he dominate her, like he did in battle, as he swung that heavy sword as if it weighed nothing, tearing apart his foes with ease and confidence? _Or_, would he let her take control, allowing her to mold him to her will? The more that she thought about it, the more aroused she became by the idea. She stood quickly, but had to brace herself against the bed for stability as her head fought off a dizzy spell. She was drunker than she had realized. She shook it off and hastily fixed her clothing. As she closed the door behind her, she noticed the key in the handle. She removed it, stuffed it into her cleavage, and made her way out of the pub with renewed purpose.

She picked the lock to Fenris's mansion with ease, a little too easily (she made a mental note to tell him later). As she tiptoed through the entrance way, a wave of disappointment washed over her with each progressive motion. Fenris wasn't someone whom was easily taken off guard. She had thought for sure, that he would have caught her by now. She moved into his bedroom and found him passed out, shirtless, and sprawled across the floor. There was a book half opened, its pages awkwardly smashed against the ground, and two empty wine bottles on their sides, cluttering the floor next to him. Isabela smiled and moved towards him. She kneeled down next to him and watched the lyrium glow of his tattoos reflect an orange sparkle from the roaring fire beside him. She was entranced by the sight, she had never seen the tattoos beneath his armor and her eyes yearned to see more.

She trailed her fingers over the tattoos on his chest, mesmerized by their intricate design. Fenris grunted and shifted in his sleep so she paused, momentarily, before continuing. She slid her finger downwards, barely skittering across his skin as she did so, and smiled as small bumps rose across his chestnut colored skin. She longed to taste him and run her lips over the bumps that her touch had induced, so she moved her mouth down and trailed the soft tip of her tongue over the lines of his tattoos. She enjoyed the sensation as her mouth tingled, from the lyrium that was infused within his skin. Fenris shuddered and she halted, watching with excitement, as his pants lifted with the pulsation of his forming erection. She grinned and continued her descent eagerly, until she reached the rim of his pants. She pulled on the ties with her teeth, loosening their restriction on him, and Fenris stretched out his hand, mindlessly, and coaxed his throbbing erection. She became wet with anticipation, anxious to see if the tattoos also covered his shaft.

She continued to kiss his lower abs, moving towards his hand's placement, when Fenris groaned under his breath. "Aven" he moaned, hungrily, as his eyes fluttered open.

"What?" she blurted out as her head shot up.

Fenris bolted upwards into a defensive stance his eyes, wide open in shock, flitting around the room for his weapon. It took him a second to register what was going on. "Isabela?"

"Who in Andraste's name is…?" She caught herself as it hit her. "Hawke?" She scoffed. "Holy Shit!" she laughed to herself. "Oh, Maker!" Her head went back in disbelief. "It's you! _You_ are fucking Hawke!"

She watched as Fenris took a deep breath and then released a long sigh. He glanced down and tied his pants closed, before responding. "Isabela, why are you here?"

She looked at him, amused. "Isn't it obvious?" There was a long awkward silence and she sighed with frustration, before breaking the silence. "I'm sorry; I didn't know about you and Hawke." She watched as Fenris remained silent, his eyes fixated on the ground. "I thought, for sure, that it was that Templar, Keran, they've been together all night…" She halted her sentence as Fenris's eyes shot up and bore into hers, furiously.

He stood up straight and pointed towards the door. "Isabela, leave."

Her mouth dropped open in astonishment. "What?"

"Leave!" Fenris enforced, reanimating his gesture.

"No!" she shot back. "It's the middle of the night and I'm drunk; I'm not leaving!"

Fenris clenched his jaw and balled his fists. "You made it here!" He seethed through his teeth.

She looked back at him, defiantly, as he stared back at her with escalating rage. He turned from her and paced back and forth, cursing her under his breath in Arcanum. At last, he stopped, and studied her in silence. He inhaled deeply and as he exhaled, he relented, releasing the tension in his body.

He walked over to the fireplace and laid back down on the floor, turning onto his side so that his back was to her. "Fine", he grumbled. "Take the bed… but do _not_ touch me again."

She glared at his back and scoffed, "Your loss!"

(Keran, Isabela and Fenris © Bioware)


	15. Part 15 Fenris

**FENRIS**

"Fenris, it's me, open up!"

Fenris turned the page of his book, as he attempted to ignore Isabela's loud knocking and muffled voice.

"I know that you're in there! Open up or I'll just pick the locks!"

He sighed, he didn't want to deal with Isabela; he just wanted to finish his book. He reluctantly put down his book, stood, and then slowly made his way towards the front entrance. He carefully undid the series of locks (that he had installed after Isabela's last break in) and opened the door, marginally. A gust of the cold autumn wind, swished inside of the mansion, sending chills up his arms.

"What do you want?"

Isabela rubbed her arms, briskly, fighting against the cold. "I'm freezing!" she chattered through her teeth. He looked back at her, irritated by her lack of a substantial response and she bit her lip in frustration. "Maker, Fenris, are you really going to make me stand outside in the cold like this?"

Without a word, he pulled the door open all of the way and then turned his back to her as he made his way up the stairs. He went into his room, sat down in his favorite plushy chair, and stared into the fire, as it roared and flickered, awaiting Isabela's inevitable entrance.

"Look, you really aren't making this any easier." Isabela lamented, as she entered the room.

He didn't remove his eyes from the fire.

"I've apologized a dozen times about that night."

"You've apologized twice." He replied, matter-of-factly, still unwilling to meet her gaze.

"Maker, why are you always so difficult? Twice, a dozen, the point is—I've apologized!"

He sighed, impatiently, and finally made eye contact with her. "Isabela, why are you here?"

She moved towards the fireplace and reached out towards the flames. She stared into the roaring hearth, as she questioned him. "Have you talked to her?"

He shifted, uncomfortably, in his chair. "No." It had been nearly six weeks since the last time that he had seen Hawke, but replaying those last few moments, had become a daily ritual...

_He had awoken, disoriented as to why he had been sleeping on the ground. As he had glanced around the room for clues, he had caught sight of Isabela's blue bandana crumpled up on the side table next to his bed and, with a jolt, recalled her intrusion into his home and upon his body._

"Isabela?" he grumbled, hoarsely, his throat uncomfortably dry.

When there was no response, he stood, a little too quickly. His head felt bulbous and his mouth, dehydrated. He moved forward, slowly, his brain pounding against his skull as he scoured the room for the water pitcher that he typically set aside each night. He cursed aloud, with vexation, when he couldn't find it. He made his way downstairs, lost in a daze, his mind set solely upon finding water. As he entered the kitchen, he stopped, blinked his eyes to clear his vision, and then quickly turned around.

"Oh! You're awake!" Isabela exclaimed, in unnaturally good spirits.

"Beseve Dores!" He cursed under his breath.

Isabela scoffed. "Maker, you are even broody first thing in the morning."

"I need water." he stated, as he scoured the room, purposely avoiding any reason to turn back towards her.

"Then turn around. There's a pitcher right here."

He didn't move, he just pointed to the table beside him. "Put it there."

"I'm busy—wait, are you avoiding me?"

He was beginning to lose his composure. He just needed water! Isabela's incessant chattering was driving him mad. "You are… not dressed." He conceded, irritated that he even had to state the obvious.

"What? That's why you won't turn around? She laughed. Haven't you seen a woman naked before?" Isabela paused, slightly, and then continued in a mischievous tone. "Oh wait, I know that you have."

He clenched his fists. If his head didn't feel as though it was going to explode, he would have removed her from his house, clothing or not.

Isabela drew silent for a second, before continuing. "Wait! You don't think that this has anything to do with last night, do you? Because, it doesn't! Well, actually, it does—but not the us part."

"There is no _us_." He corrected.

"I meant… Ugh, Maker, Fenris! Drake spilled ale on me and I needed to wash it out."

He didn't know, or even care to know, what or who she was even babbling on about. "Get dressed!" he enforced. He was done conversing with her.

"My clothes are soaking wet!" she protested.

"Then wear wet clothes!"

Just then, there was a loud knock on the door. He walked quickly towards it, content to find any reason to move far away from Isabela. He opened the door slowly, only to have Varric push his force against it and enter without invitation. Trailing behind him was Anders, and then—Hawke. She looked beautiful. Her hair was down and flowing with her movement. Her cheeks were a vibrant pink and a small smile lit up her eyes. She had looked so pale, the day before, that he couldn't help but smile back. She held his gaze, allowing him to bask in the royal blue of her eyes, for much longer than he had anticipated.

"Elf, have you seen Isabela? She has my damned key!" Varric stated, with booming annoyance, which caused him to break his trance with Hawke.

Before he could answer, Isabela's voice was heard, echoing in the hall. "Shit, Varric! I am so sorry!" Isabela hurried into the entry way, her wet dress held up against the front of her naked body. "It's in Fenris's room! Let me…"Isabela's eyes shot to Hawke and then to him.

He turned, only in time, to see Hawkes' smile fade and the light in her eyes dim. "Oh…" Hawke stumbled out. "I'll—uh; I will be, just—outside, Varric."

Before he could even register what was going on, Hawke was out the door. He involuntarily, met Anders's gaze; his eyes pierced through him like knives. He was caught off guard by the look and instinctually changed his stance in preparation for an assault. He was surprised, when Anders quickly turned from him and left the mansion. There was a long silence as he willed the exploding pain in his brain, and unrelenting thirst, to dissipate so that he could make sense of what had just happened.

"Shit!" Isabela proclaimed, breaking the silence.

Varric laughed. "Well, well, Rivaini, looks like you have one hell of a story to tell me!"

Isabela spoke, snapping him out if his thoughts. "She's avoiding me. It's making me crazy."

He didn't say a word he just stared into the flickering flames of the fire.

Isabela drew silent and took a seat in the chair across from him. "Did you hear about the Templar?"

He clenched his fist. The last thing that he wanted to hear about was _the_ Templar.

"_Templar's_, I should say. Sebastian and Varric told me about it yesterday. Apparently, Anders had found out about a Templar that was secretly performing the Rite of Tranquility on unwilling mages that had already passed their Harrowing. There were even rumors that Knight Commander Meredith and The Grand Cleric had approved it."

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. All that he could think about was Hawke being made tranquil. How her eyes would no longer light up when she smiled, her kindness and passion stripped entirely from her; he could not bear the thought.

"Hawke, Anders, Sebastian, and Varric went to find Sir Alrik, the Templar that had been behind the recent tranquilities, and to find out if the rumors were, in fact, true. They stumbled upon Sir Alrik, just as he was about to make a young mage tranquil and Anders went blue monster on them."

He scoffed.

"Naturally, the Templar's attacked. Only, after they were all dead, that thing inside of Anders..." Isabela snapped her fingers as she tried to recall something. "Justice—that's the name! Anyways, iit/i was still in a rage, and almost killed the mage girl."

"Hardly surprising." he stated, bluntly.

Isabela ignored his comment and continued. "Supposedly, Hawke was the only one that could talk him down. Sebastian said that Anders is having a really hard time with what happened." She paused, slightly, and then continued in a much softer tone. "Hawke has scarcely left his side in the past few days".

Without thinking, he removed his eyes from the fire and met Isabela's sympathetic gaze. He sighed and quickly looked back in the direction of the fire. "For the last time, why are you here, Isabela?"

"I need you to talk to her."

"What is it that you want me to say to her?" he asked, exhausted by her presence.

"Well, for starters, you could tell her that nothing happened."

"Nothing did happen." he replied, meeting her gaze to enforce the statement.

"You know that, and I know that, but _she_ doesn't know that." Isabela said, her eyes pleading with him.

"I doubt Hawke cares either way." he said, reaching for his book.

Isabela arched her left eyebrow at him and then crossed her legs and settled deeper into her chair, watching him. He ignored her and began thumbing through the pages of his book in search of where he had left off.

"Varric told me that Hawke has been spending most of her time, these past six weeks, helping Anders at his clinic." His eyes shot up to hers. He could tell by the half smile that danced across her face that she had gotten the response that she had been looking for. "Did you know that Anders is in love with Hawke?" Isabela said, pointedly, while she played with her nails.

His fingers dug into the hard binding of the book that he was holding.

She avoided his gaze as she continued. "He got really drunk one night with me and Varric and told us all about how _in love_ with her that he was and how he had missed his chance."

He began to dig his nails into the binding as he fought against the urge to silence her.

Isabela shifted her eyes up and to the left, as if she were recalling something. "Huh; I had never realized it before, but that was the night before Hawke's… hickey." He watched as Isabela paused and then focused in on him with a smug expression on her face. "That means that Anders knew that Hawke was with..."

"Enough!"

Isabela folded her arms and grinned. "That's what I thought." She paused and then released a long drawn out sigh. "Look, just go to talk to her."

He shifted his eyes to the ground. "I can't."

"You _can't_ or you won't?"

He remained silent, pondering upon her wording.

Isabela stood, but he didn't remove his eyes from the ground. As she walked past him, she sighed. "Looks like Anders didn't miss his chance after all." She paused and then added, regretfully. "Perhaps, I should have gone to Anders for help, instead."

(Fenris, Isabela, Varric, Sebastian and Anders/Justice © Bioware)


	16. Part 16 Hawke

**HAWKE**

Hawke walked briskly through the narrow aerated corridors of Darktown. As she rounded the corner towards Anders' clinic, an icy gust of wind hit her in the crossfire, sending a chill up her spine. She pulled her new shawl tighter around her shoulders and arms, determined to stay warm. Mother had just made her the shawl; it was a deep red maroon, except for the middle, where Mother had embroidered the Hawke insignia in a shimmering gold thread that she had bought off of an Orlesian merchant. The garment was soft against the nape of her neck and as she constricted her body inwards, to ward off the cold, she inhaled deeply and caught a whiff of Mother's lily fragrance, wrapped lovingly within the comfort of its warmth.

She entered the clinic to find Anders huddled beneath a blanket next to the roaring fire in the hearth. He had pushed one of his work tables close to the fireplace and was scribbling, fervently, upon a piece of parchment. She walked forward slowly, careful not to catch him off guard. It had only been two days since his near accident with the young mage and since the incident, he had been jumpy and on edge. One moment, he would be in an utter state of mania, spouting off ideas, updating his manifesto, and voicing his opinions on Mages and Templars to anyone that would listen. The next moment, he would be grief stricken, unsure of himself, and voicing his fears of losing his stability with his patients.

She had never seen him struggle like this before. She had always known that Anders' choice to allow his friend Justice's spirit within him, had been a choice that he had not taken lightly. She could see how it challenged and even haunted him at times. However, he had always owned up to the responsibility of that decision and she had always admired his resolve to make the best of it. Never before, had she seen their cohesive unit so thoroughly off balance, which worried her.

"Hawke." Anders stated, without lifting his head or putting down his pen.

She quickened her pace, closing the distance between them. "I'm so sorry. I was trying not to disturb you."

When she reached him, she placed her right hand gently upon his left shoulder. He set his quill down and reached his right hand over across his chest until the smoothness of his healer's hand had overlapped hers.

He turned his head slightly to the left and smiled up at her. "You have great timing, actually. I am almost done updating my manifesto. Will you read over it and tell me what you think?"

She peered into the warm amber of his questioning eyes; they were always so open and inviting. He was different today, better. She smiled back at him, warmly. "Yes, of course."

Anders' eyes flickered at her response and he held her gaze a moment longer, before releasing his hand from hers and turning back towards the pages before him. He lifted his pen once again, and began scribbling as he spoke. "I am—almost done."

She moved towards a barrel, adjacent to him, and propped herself upon it. She leaned her back against the wooden slats in the wall and thumbed at the edges of a letter that was nestled inside of her pocket. "I grabbed some mail before I left the estate. I'll just read over it until you are done."

Anders nodded, a small smile lifting on the edge of his lips while he remained focused and vigilant on his task at hand. It was wonderful to see him calm and collected. He even looked better. The past few days he had appeared pale and drawn, but today he looked restored and vibrant; there seemed to be a renewed confidence in his countenance.

She pulled the parchment from her pocket and grinned as she subconsciously trailed her finger over the name on the front of her letter. She recognized the handwriting before she had even properly read the addressee's name. With excitement, she quickly slipped her thumb under the seal and unfolded the pages. She and Keran had been writing letters back and forth, religiously, ever since they had reconnected at The Hanged Man. Her feelings had been so conflicted over Fenris, that night, and Keran had stayed up all night with her just listening to her drunkenly ramble away. What had developed, since, was a most amazing friendship. She had not realized how much she had needed to have someone that was apart from the centricities, drama, and confusions within the circle of her close knit friends, until he had come along. Keran was simple. He made her laugh, he let her vent to him, and best of all he was sincere in his efforts and advice. He had become a wonderful confidant and she anxiously looked forward to their exchanges.

Before reading the pages in her grasp, she glanced back up at Anders and thought about that night with Keran at The Hanged Man. He had originally presumed that Anders was whom she had been hurting over. At the time, she had been baffled as to how Keran could have made such a presumption. She couldn't help but think of how coincidental it was that she had spent most of her days with Anders, since. In fact, it was the very next day, after that night at The Hanged Man, that she had begun helping Anders in his clinic. He had asked for her help, shortly after she had observed Fenris and Isabela together in his mansion (him half naked, and she completely unclothed). At the time, she had been so desperate for any excuse to get as far away from them as possible, that she had not realized that Anders' request had not been for his own benefit, but really for her own. He had been aware of much more than she had realized.

Spending her days in Anders' clinic had quickly become something that she had begun to look forward to. She loved watching Anders work, and had grown close to many of his patients (most, of which, were refugees from her homeland, Ferelden). The time that she had spent in the clinic had not only been greatly rewarding, but had also kept her far too busy to dwell on the gaping wound in her heart. The distraction helped the pain within her recede and as her heart began to mend her thoughts betrayed her less and less, allowing her to grow closer to Anders. It wasn't long before she had begun to see how Keran had made his mistaken assumption. The more that she paid attention, the more obvious Anders' feelings for her had become. The way that he looked at her, betrayed him best.

As she gazed at Anders, her body stirred. He looked incredibly handsome. She found herself entranced by the way that the bright yellow haze, from the fire beside him, flickered across his face making his skin reflect a healthy glow. Flecks of yellow danced across his eyes making his iris's glimmer the color of molten ember. Anders subconsciously lifted and lowered his head and then, just as quickly, raised it again, holding eye contact while smiling back at her. She readjusted awkwardly, embarrassed that he had caught her staring at him.

"You look beautiful." He half whispered.

His words caught her off guard. She blushed deeply and then dropped her eyes to the floor.

Anders cleared his throat. "That shawl… it's very beautiful. Is it new?"

She looked back up to see Anders' forehead wrinkled while he, nervously, chewed on the inside of his cheek. When she met his gaze, he relaxed his face and grinned boyishly back at her. The look sent a ripple of warmth throughout her body.

She couldn't help but smile as a giggle escaped her lips. "Um, Mother made it." She said, shaking off the giggle and willing the heat in her face to drain.

"It's lovely." Anders stated with a grin, while his eyes shifted to her lips. After an unnaturally long pause, he cleared his throat and turned back to his work.

Within the past few weeks, her feelings for him had been blossoming. One day they were laughing and joking and then, unexpectedly, their joking had become flirting. Before she was aware of what was happening, the momentum had already taken ahold of her. Slowly, her mind no longer thought only of Fenris; images of Anders had begun to intrude her restless thoughts as well. It wasn't long before waking thoughts turned to sleeping dreams and then suddenly, her feelings for Anders had become more than friendship. Her curiosity had been growing rapidly and with it, her desire for him. However, those feelings had been derailed after what had happened with the Templars and the mage girl. She was surprised, but pleased, to see that things were getting back on track.

She smiled to herself and then refocused her attention back onto the pages in her hands.

_Dearest Hawke,_

_Despite your insistence that I call you Aven, I have decided that I simply must call you Hawke. The problem is that your name is far too beautiful. Every time that I write down 'Aven', I think: lovely and kind. As much as these descriptions fit you, most perfectly, they also lead me astray. Behind that sweet face and those lulling deep blue eyes, is actually a quite skilled mage that could seriously kick my arse! I am a Templar in training, after all, so I must look at you as quite a danger. You see this, right?_

_(Was that a convincing argument? It took me quite a while to come up with it, so I hope that you are nodding your head in agreement right about now)._

She giggled out loud and Anders stopped scribbling. She looked up to see a curious expression upon his face and shot back an apologetic smile before returning to her letter.

_In truth, all of your friends call you Hawke and I am feeling quite left out. Speaking of friends, Drake has strikebribed/strike asked me to convey a message. It would seem that a certain raven haired pirate, that we both know, has refused to see him again, without your presence._

Hawke let out a deep sigh and shook her head. _Oh, Isabela._

_She is quite cunning, isn't she? I know that you have been reluctant to see her, but if she is using Drake (and in turn me), as a messenger, then she must be desperate to see you. Think about it. For my own sanity, please think fast. Drake has been quite persistent to the point that I've found myself avoiding him, and he's my best mate. These Templar's quarters are not nearly large enough; I'm running out of places to hide, help!_

A second laugh escaped her lips and her eyes shot up as she pulled her hands to her mouth, in a delayed attempt to restrain her already escaped laughter.

Anders smiled up at her. "What are you reading?"

She bashfully folded the pages, as she hesitantly answered. "Oh, it's just a letter from a friend."

Anders peered at her for a moment. "Please, tell me who, so that I might thank them. Your laughter is an enchanting distraction."

Her smile widened at the compliment. She paused, slightly, and then answered him. "Keran."

She watched as the smile faded from Anders' face.

"The Templar?"

She nodded, slightly caught off guard by his mood change.

"I didn't know that the two of you kept in contact." Anders stated, as he set his quill down. He dropped the blanket that was around his shoulders as he stood, and then made his way towards her.

She protectively folded the pages of Keran's letter and pushed them deep into her pocket. "He's a good friend."

Anders stopped, inches from her, an expression of worry etched across his face. "Do you really think that's wise, Hawke?"

She turned from him and slid off of the barrel and as she attempted to move away from him, he caught her hand, halting her motion. She reluctantly turned back towards him and watched as concern quivered deep within his eyes.

"I didn't mean to upset you."

She looked back at him in frustration. "I know what I'm doing, Anders. He knows that I'm a mage, just as I know that he is a Templar. He is a really good person and a great friend. He would never do anything to betray me."

Anders' eyes darkened with pain, as he released her hand.

She softened her expression and then added, "I know why you are concerned, but you need to trust me."

"I do trust you! It's _them_ that I don't trust!" Anders spouted out in frustration, as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Not all Templar's abuse their power, just as not all Mages use their magic wisely." She said, pleading with him to understand.

"What if some _other_ Templar finds out? What if your wealth and position aren't enough to protect you? It would destroy me if anything happened to you!"

She reached out and gently took his hands into her own and peered deep into the honey brown of his eyes. She watched as they darkened, exposing his undeniable desire for her.

"I've tried to hold back. You saw what I almost did to that girl; you've seen what I am." Anders paused, and dropped his eyes to their hands, which were still gently clasped together. He then turned his gaze back to her "...but I'm still a man. You can't keep teasing me like this and expect me to resist forever."

Her heart beat faster in response to Ander's unexpected confession. Without hesitation, she replied with earnest. "I don't want you to resist".

The words had barely escaped her mouth, before Anders lips were firmly upon hers. He kissed her, intensely, moving his lips against hers with urgency, his passion pouring into her, causing euphoric streams of pleasure to encompass her whole body. She succumbed to his lips, reveling in the feeling of his mouth moving against her own. Quite suddenly, he stopped and pulled away from her. She could barely think, let alone properly recover poise.

The words rushed from his mouth, as if they had always been on the tip of his tongue, trying for far too long to escape. "This will be a disaster, but I can't live without it. We could die tomorrow; I didn't want it to be before I told you how I feel!"

She smiled back at him, seductively. "Then continue."

"For three years, I've lain awake aching for you!" His expression went unexpectedly serious. "I thought that with Justice, this part of me was over." He sighed, deeply and peered into her eyes with intensity. "I can't give you a normal life. If you're with me, we'll be hunted, hated—the whole world will be against us!" Anders shifted his eyes away from her as he spoke. "If your door is open tonight, I will come to you." He then returned his gaze to her. "If not… I'll know that you took my warning seriously, at last."

She watched as Anders turned from her and went back to his table, sat back down, and then continued working on his manifesto, as if nothing had happened. She stood motionless and confused. Without a word, she turned and left the clinic. As she made her way back to her estate, she realized something… not once, while Anders had been kissing her, had she thought of Fenris.

(Anders, Keran, Fenris and *some* dialogue © Bioware)


	17. Part 17 Fenris

**FENRIS**

He bowed his back and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. He had thought, for sure, that if he took the long way through Darktown, he would be warmer. The corridors creaked in response to the howling wind as the cold air assaulted him in the narrow passages, sending chills up his spine. It was almost worse than walking outside. He cursed under his breath for not thinking to wear another layer under his armor. Even after three years, he still wasn't used to how fast the temperatures dropped within the weeks prior to the onslaught of Kirkwall's winter months.

He was tempted to quicken his pace but resisted the urge, despite the cold. He still wasn't sure what he was going to say to Hawke when he saw her. He knew that it was going to be awkward. He had not seen her for weeks, which had made him absolutely miserable; especially because for many months, prior to their break in contact, he had spent nearly every evening with her. He missed her. That was exactly what he should say to her, but the very idea of doing so, made him feel uncomfortably anxious.

He rounded the corner, to find a group of Darktown residents huddled around an open bonfire, and cautiously moved closer. Several people looked up from the flickering flames, in response to his entrance. A frail, elderly, elven woman, smiled warmly at him, revealing one missing front tooth.

"You look cold. Come here!" the woman insisted, creating a gap in the tight circle surrounding the flames.

A young elven woman, standing next to her, peered back at him with disdain. "Grandmother, he's not one of us. Look at what he's wearing." she whispered, nodding her head in the direction of his weapon. "That sword looks expensive; he can make his own fire."

"Hush child! Expensive weapon or not, I know a cold man when I see one!" The elderly woman smiled wider at him, bringing to light more of her missing teeth.

"Thank you. That is—very kind of you." Fenris replied, apprehensively, as he moved towards the empty spot in the circle. He reached his hands out towards the warmth and rubbed them together briskly.

"What brings a young, handsome, elf like you, down to this Maker forgotten part of the city?"

He smiled politely. "I have come to see a—friend."

The elderly elf's smile widened. "Ah, it's a woman."

He looked back at her perplexed.

"Don't look so surprised, dear! I've been around for a while."

He glanced away from her and peered into the flames, consciously aware that old woman's gaze was still on him, so he glanced back at her, uncomfortably, and she widened her large toothless grin in response.

"This _friend_, is someone that you care about?" Without waiting for a reply, she turned back towards the fire and continued. "Good, get her out of this dreadful place as quickly as possible."

He stared at her, bewildered, and then glanced back into the fire while he allowed the emanating heat to encompass and thaw him. He thought about the old woman's words as he watched the streaming colors of orange, yellow and red dance together within the flickering flames. Was he really _that_ transparent? He sighed. He still had absolutely no idea what he was going to say to Hawke, let alone how he was going to go about explaining to her that nothing had happened between Isabela and him. Reluctantly, he stepped away from the heat and out of the circle.

"Thank you." He said to the kind elven woman, before turning back to the path that led to the clinic.

"Go get her, dear!" She replied, encouragingly.

He managed to turn and give her a slight, polite smile.

As he neared the clinic, he slowed his pace. The left door to the clinic was ajar and as he inched up the small set of stairs, which led directly to the clinic, he spotted Hawke. The sight of her caused his breath to catch in his throat and his blood to stir; she looked so beautiful. She was sitting on a barrel, a dark colored shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Her long red hair was down, draped on the left side of her shoulder, giving him a perfect view of her facial profile. A large smile lit up her face, as she read a letter within her grasp. Her smile caused him to smile in return and then suddenly, she burst out laughing. He couldn't help how his grin grew in response. He loved her laugh; he had not realized how much he had missed hearing it, until that moment. Suddenly, Anders spoke, causing his grin to fade. The words were too distant to make out.

He racked his brain, trying to think of what he would say to her. He paused and rubbed his temple. As he inhaled deeply, he caught a whiff of lavender oil from the red cloth that was tightly secured around his wrist. He closed his eyes, remembering the hint of lavender on Hawke's soft, naked skin. He brought his wrist to his nose and inhaled deeper into the fabric. He had washed the cloth at least a few dozen times, since his night with Hawke, but he could still mildly make out the subtle scent of Hawke's lavender skin mixed in with vanilla that had been interlaced within the cotton sheets of her bed. He opened his eyes to see Hawke, moving towards his direction, a frustrated expression upon her face. Unprepared, he quickly moved backwards, down the steps, until he was out of her line of sight.

He watched through the slats of the railing as he beheld, what seemed to be, Anders and her arguing. He smiled at his fortuitous timing and moved forward with purpose, then suddenly halted. His heart restricted and the blood drained from his face. He stood motionless, unable to turn away as Anders kissed Hawke passionately. Not once did she fight against it; in fact, she seemed to welcome it.

As the harsh blow, of the reality before him, completely sunk in, he turned from them. In a numb stupor, he moved away from the clinic. His feet felt heavy as he retraced his steps in the direction that he had originally come from. He walked slowly, in a haze, his left fingers playing with the knot in the fabric around his right wrist. He stopped at one of the pane-less windows, which the locals had not yet covered with some sort of blanket or nailed in slats of wood, and stared out into the dark gray sky, no longer aware of the icy gusts of wind that whipped relentlessly against his face. He looked down; the fog was slowly inching up the cliff side, blocking his view of the river that he knew lay below.

He unknotted Hawke's gift from his wrist. As it released, he immediately felt a sense of emptiness. It had scarcely left his wrist, since the day that Hawke had placed it there. He balled the fabric into his left fist and then reached his hand outside of the window. He stood there, motionless, his hand dangling over the deathly drop below. The wind seemed hungry for his offering; he had to use all the strength in his forearm, to keep his arm steady against the wind's force. He wanted to release it, but try as he might, he simply could not. His mind filled with thoughts of Ander's lips upon Hawke; _his_ Hawke.

_His?_

He pulled his arm back in against him and wrapped the fabric back around his wrist, knotting it with his teeth. He breathed in the fabric with renewed resolution. He would not give up on Hawke. He had not let her go or created this painful distance from her, just so that she could find her way into Anders' arms. He hated Anders; even more so now. Anders wasn't like her. He wasn't a strong mage, he was weak. He had only let Hawke go because he had feared hurting her and knew that she deserved better than him. At least he held his own control, unlike Anders' constant inner battle with his abomination. Hawke deserved better; much better, there was no way that he was going to allow Anders to hurt her.

He moved forward and then suddenly, halted. A torturous realization washed over him with sickening grief.

_What if she wanted to be with him? Or even worse… what if she was in love with him?_

Suddenly, he felt completely overwhelmed with a sense of powerlessness and defeat.

(Fenris and Anders © Bioware)


	18. Part 18 Anders

**ANDERS**

Anders waited until he could no longer hear Hawke's footsteps and then dropped his quill. He plopped his head down on the table and knocked his forehead against the sturdy oak as he fought against the urge to run after her. He wanted to, badly, but his thoughts felt jumbled and conflicted. He stood, pushing his chair back with force. He pulled out the tie that held his hair in a ponytail, and then ran his fingers through the thick strands as he paced the length of the fireplace beside him.

Part of him was screaming out that she was a distraction from an important work that needed to be done and that what mattered, the most, was to remain steadfast and focused upon his mission. Now, was not to the time to get lost in his obsession with Hawke! The other part of him was excited and invigorated that he had kissed her, at last, and that she had kissed him back! He wanted to linger in his thoughts, relive the softness of her lips and how they had passionately moved against his own. He wanted to ponder on what was to come; if her door would be open and, if so, what that would mean.

_If_

Suddenly the thought hit him like a ton of bricks. What if Hawke's door wasn't open? What if she had been really bothered by the way that he had responded to their kiss and had then decided that she wasn't ready for what it would mean to be involved with him? He leaned against the brick hearth and let out a long, deep, sigh as he stared into the sputtering sparks of the fire. He glanced over at the door. His scarf and gloves were draped over the wooden stool that was being used to keep the door propped open.

He smoothed his hair back and twisted the tie back around his blond hair as he made his way towards the door. He wrapped the scarf tightly around his neck, before sliding his hands into the warmth of his gloves. He exited the clinic and then, with a second thought, turned around and quickened his pace back towards his manifesto. He gathered up its scattered pages, rolled them into a cylindrical shape and then stuffed them into the inside pocket of his robes. He turned back towards the clinic's exit, with his chin lifted in renewed hope. Even if Hawke's door wasn't open, he would still have an excuse to see her; she had, after all, told him that she would read over his manifesto.

He walked slowly through Lowtown, oblivious of the chilling wind that hit him, full force, with each forward motion. His thoughts were consumed in opposition. With each step, his legs felt heavy, as if his mind had already decided to turn around and head back to the warmth of his clinic. It was his heart that moved him forward and refused to back down from his own inner resistance. He found himself at the base of the stairwell, staring up at the stone carved steps that led up to Hightown. He paused and squeezed his eyes shut.

_What am I doing?_

He turned around, abruptly, losing all courage. He opened his eyes and sighed. The harsh winds had pushed aside the dark gray clouds, allowing him a peek into the beauty of the star filled night. The half- moon was higher in the sky than he had expected, he must have been wandering around Lowtown for hours. He sat down, peering up into the luminous lights that lit the heavens. It reminded him of the night that he had first set foot in Kirkwall...

It was not long after his joining with Justice that he had fled from Amaranthine and the Grey Wardens. He had taken the first boat that he could board, which had been headed to Kirkwall. It was within those first few days, trapped at sea, that he had come to a very daunting realization. In choosing to help a friend, the only way that he could (by becoming his vessel) he had, inadvertently, chosen a life-long companion. The few lonely weeks, trapped upon that boat, had given him ample time to dwell upon the bitter reality of that truth. Frustration, anger, and deep sorrow had consumed him as he had unraveled the magnitude of what that had meant. His choices no longer revolved merely around himself, nor did they completely belong to him alone. For his and, therefore, Justice's safety, their union would always have to remain a secret. With a heavy heart, he had made himself accept the fact that many of the experiences that he had once, secretly, longed for, were no longer viable hopes.

He could still remember the statues of the two slaves, on each side of the narrow cliffs, towering over him in a morbid sort of ominous greeting as his ship had arrived at Kirkwall's borders. Daunting gray clouds had enveloped the night sky. A thick, wet, fog had risen from the sea, chilling him to the core and blinding his eyes to all that surrounded him. His eyes had automatically shot up, searching the skies for sight of anything, only to witness the fog reaching newer heights as it slithered up those statues' legs. It had seemed an appropriate welcome, to his solemn and dubious mindset, merely solidifying his feelings of being forever trapped.

It had been winds, like tonight, that had helped push the boat up to the sandy shores, well before their expected arrival. The winds had also cleared the sky, just as his feet had hit the solid rock surface of Kirkwall's Gallows. He remembered how wonderful it had felt as the shroud around him had lifted, instantaneously releasing the heavy weight of his tumultuous journey. He remembered gazing up into the sky, as the clouds had momentarily parted, and beholding a bright, iridescent, full moon. It had been at that moment, gazing upon Kirkwall's moonlit massive structures, that he had realized that Kirkwall did hold hope. He had decided then, that instead of focusing on what he had lost, and would never have, he was going to look to the future and to the new possibilities that lay ahead _because_ of his joining with Justice.

As the politics of the city had quickly unraveled before him, he had realized that he had been destined to be there. As a Ferelden, apostate mage, and a healer, he had quickly discovered that he was gravely needed. It was because of his union with Justice, that he was able to help in a capacity that he had never envisioned himself capable of before. His quest to help the mages and to be of service to his fellow countrymen, had been difficult but it had brought him a great sense of purpose and renewed hope. It wasn't until he had met Hawke, however, that he had begun to discover joy within that process.

He had never allowed himself the hope of ever finding someone that knew his secret, let alone accepted him for what he was. Hawke's approval had awoken a desire inside of him, that he had thought had been thrown overboard one of those bleak, dark, and dreary days, trapped upon the sea. Hawke understood him, as only another apostate mage could. More than that, he knew that she enjoyed being around him. She was beautiful, kind, intelligent and strong. Falling in love with her had been much unexpected and surprisingly easy; too easy.

The first year of their meeting, they had grown quite close. However, each time that it seemed as though their friendship was crossing over the invisible line into something more, he would feel another part of himself fighting against it with quick retreat. For a while, he was convinced that it had been fear holding him back. Never before, had he ever felt for anyone else, the way that he had begun to feel for Hawke. However, as he fell deeper in love with her, and found it increasingly difficult to stay away from her, he realized something else. Despite the fact, that he and Justice were one now, every time that he was around Hawke, he would feel inner opposition. One day, clear as a bell, it hit him with certainty; it was Justice that did not approve.

Confused, frustrated, and unsure what to do, he relented. Justice, after all, was sharing space with him. With great difficulty, he pulled away from her. He had rationalized that it was what was best for her. He had convinced himself that he was far too conflicted to ever love her the way that she truly deserved to be loved. He was not a whole person, nor would he ever be; he would always be the combination of two. One side of him would always be more driven towards vengeance and justice than towards loving her. The fear of hurting her, for never being able to be "whole" for her, is what had kept him reluctantly at bay for the past few years.

He had convinced himself, that if he stayed away from her, and created distance between them, then he would begin to feel less for her. However, he was never strong enough to stay away from her for too long. As time had passed, his desire for her had only grown deeper. For three torturous years, she had remained completely oblivious to his inner struggle.

Watching as her feelings had grown for another, had felt unbearable at times. As much as he had hated seeing her with someone else (let alone, someone that he loathed), he still longed to see her happy. What he had not been prepared for was how much it would tear at him to see her hurting from someone else's callousness. Fenris did not deserve her.

_I would never do that to her!_

He gazed into the starry night and whispered his thoughts aloud to himself.

"I would never hurt her."

Part of him wondered if his words were not actually meant to convince himself but, instead, to appeal to Justice.

The chilly breeze picked back up, sending shivers throughout his body. He rubbed his hands together as he watched the clouds move in unison with the winds' movement. The gap in the clouds closed, hiding the peaceful night sky behind their threatening grey mass. He inhaled deeply and for this first time that night, his mind was clear and at peace. He stood and without hesitancy, turned. His direction was decided; his thoughts were, at last, vacant of all previous opposition. He knew what he wanted, and he wanted it more than he wanted vengeance or justice. He exhaled and moved forward, with driven anticipation, as he climbed the steps that led to Hightown.

(Anders/Justice and Fenris © Bioware)


	19. Part 19 Fenris

**FENRIS**

Fenris leaned against the brick siding on the building, opposite of Hawke's estate. He stared at the front door, willing himself to move forward. He watched, as differentiating silhouettes moved passed the curtain covered windows; none, of which, belonged to Hawke. He had followed, dreamed, and fantasized about the curves of her body, too many times, not to know her perfect shape. The hour was late and he had been standing outside, for what seemed like forever. He had been telling himself that he was waiting to make sure that Hawke was even home. In truth, he needed something, anything, to give him the extra push and courage to do what he intended to do.

The light scuffing of movement sent him into an upright and defensive stance. He narrowed his eyes, trying to make out the shape moving towards him. He recognized him, only a fraction of a second, before he spoke.

"Fenris?"

He relaxed his stance and shifted his eyes from Anders to Hawke's estate. Taken off guard, as if he had been caught red handed, he stumbled out an explanation before he had time to stop himself.

"I—was going to see Hawke, but the hour—I-It is late. "

He watched as Anders peered back at him, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He quickly straightened his back, pushing his shoulders back as he glared back at Anders.

In an attempt to regain his composure, he questioned him, pointedly. "Why are _you_ here?" The words had scarcely left his lips, before he had begun to regret them.

He watched as Anders' expression grew into a smug grin. "Hawke is expecting me."

He felt dumbstruck and could feel the blood draining from his face. He was immediately grateful for the darkness. Although he had only paused, for a second, it had felt like an eternity. He could feel the beating of his heart slowing, as if it were being squeezed tightly within his chest; he was too late. He dropped his eyes to the ground, ready to turn, when Anders hastily added:

"She—told me that she would read over my manifesto."

His eyes shot up to the twisted pieces of parchment that Anders was removing from within his robe. He then glanced up at Anders' face; his smug smile had vanished, and in its place was something far worse—concern. He turned from him, confused and irritated. He was anxious to make space between them.

"Fenris..."

He halted and turned his chin slightly towards his left shoulder, but did not turn to face him.

"Should I tell Hawke that you… "

He cut him off, quickly. "There is no need." He then moved with haste, fighting hard against an overwhelming urge to turn and tear out Anders' heart.

He swung open the front door of the mansion and then slammed it as hard as he could. He marched up the stairs towards his room, all the while cursing out loud as he expelled his seething anger into the silent darkness. His eyes darted around the room, searching for the bottle of wine that he had opened earlier. (After returning home from witnessing Hawke and Anders' earlier entanglement, he had intended on drinking it, in an attempt to erase the image, but had, instead, convinced himself to go and talk to her). He spotted it on the ledge of the hearth and jerked it off, carelessly, causing red liquid to splash out on to the floor. He tipped the bottle back against his lips, guzzling down as much as he possibly could, before running out of breath. He pulled the bottle away, choking on the excess left in his mouth as he fought for air. He could feel the warm, maroon liquid, drizzling down his chin and absentmindedly swiped the back of his left hand across his mouth. The sharp spikes, in his gauntlet, tore his lip open.

"Fastevas!"

He angrily shook the glove off of his left hand as he ran his tongue over the gushing, salty, warmth of his blood. He brought his right wrist to his mouth, with the wine bottle still in his grasp, and pressed the red fabric against his bleeding lip. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, basking in Hawke's lavender and vanilla scent, as his mind continued racing in attempt to make sense of his emotions. Why had that idiot mage looked concerned? He wasn't a fool! Anders was not going to see Hawke, at that hour, just to show her his manifesto! His purpose had been made perfectly clear, within that smug grin. Why had he not just let him leave? Why had he even bothered to say another word? Suddenly, it hit him.

_He pities me!_

The thought festered inside of him, sending rage to boil over into streams of hatred and disgust. He roared out loud, consumed in his anger and frustration, as he hurled the nearly empty bottle at the wall. He stared at the intricate design that the wine's splatter had created before him, as he breathed in and out, slowly, pulling in the depths of his diaphragm while he fought to gain control over his emotions. He could feel the familiar tingling sensation of the wine's warmth spreading throughout his body.

As he stared, vacantly, at the wine drenched wall, his mind replayed through all that had transpired that day. He dropped to his knees and buried his face into his palms. What bothered him the most, was _not_ Anders' expression; it was the knowledge that at that very moment, Hawke was with Anders and that it was completely his fault.

(Fenris and Anders © Bioware)


	20. Part 20 Anders

**ANDERS**

The look of surprise on Bodahn's face, as he opened the door, instantly engulfed Anders with unease and made him regret knocking on the door.

"Is—uh, is Hawke... I know that it's late, but is Hawke still awake?"

Bodahn smiled politely, but he could tell that he was waiting for him to further explain his reason for calling on Hawke so late at night. Just then, Orana walked past the hallway, on the opposite side of the entryway, and froze as she recognized him. He watched as terror swept across her face and she quickly hurried towards Bodahn.

Her voice was full of anxiety as she spoke. "Bodahn, I am so sorry! I—I forgot to tell you that the Mistress was expecting her friend! I..."

Bodahn turned towards Orana and cut her off as he gently patted her arm and whispered consoling words to her. "Now, now, Orana, don't you go worrying yourself about it! You are telling me now and that's all that matters!"

Orana looked up, sheepishly, and then glanced up towards him. He smiled encouragingly back at her, as a sense of relief poured over him with the acknowledgement that Hawke was, in fact, expecting him!

"I apologize for any misunderstanding, Sir. Please, come in." Bodahn stated, as he gestured him inside and extended his arm to take Anders' outerwear.

He removed his gloves and scarf and handed them to Bodahn as he replied, politely. "No, it's my fault, I did not intend on visiting so late."

Bodahn turned back towards Orana. "See, my girl, everything is just fine! Now, how about you take our guest to see Mistress Hawke?"

Orana nodded, obediently, and then dropped her eyes to the floor as she waited for him to move towards her. Once he reached her, she whispered, quietly. "Could you please remove your shoes?"

He looked at her, perplexed. "My shoes…?"

Without removing her eyes from the ground, Orana replied, "We have just finished cleaning the floors." She timidly peered up at him, her eyes full of apprehension as she waited for him to reply.

He smiled at her, reassuringly. "Oh… Yes, of course!" His eyes glanced over the clean sheen of the wooden flooring and he managed to add, "The floor looks lovely" between exertions, as he wrestled with his boots to come off.

Orana's cheeks flushed pink, at the compliment, and her eyes darted immediately back to the ground as he turned around and set his footwear inside of the entryway. She turned her back to him and moved with tiny, quickened, strides as she led him forward. Once they reached the hallway leading into Hawke's bedroom, Orana curtsied without raising her eyes to meet his. Her cheeks burned crimson as she gestured, shyly, by lifting her chin slightly in the direction of Hawke's bed chamber. She turned quickly on her heels and left him alone, without further word or instruction.

The door to Hawke's room was ajar. He walked through the doorway, slowly; he was nervous, which was a foreign feeling for him. For the first time, since he had been a young man, he found himself feeling completely anxious by the very idea of being intimate. It had been a long time since he had been with a woman, but that wasn't what was making him uneasy. He had been fantasizing about Hawke for three, very long, years and that was merely scratching the surface of his anxiety.

He knew, without a doubt, that he was a skilled lover. He had always been secure, even cocky, when it came to his abilities. He enjoyed exploring his lovers, experimenting with different techniques until he knew exactly what turned them on. He had been with many women before and had never lacked confidence when it came to his performance. It was always a game, a race of sorts, a sparring of sexual knowledge with the same inevitable outcome. He used to thrive for the game and had actually enjoyed being unattached, but, then again, he had never really had much of a choice when he had lived in The Circle. It would have given the Templar's too much power if there had ever been something or someone that he couldn't stand to lose.

With Hawke, there was so much more to it than just lust. He cared deeply for Hawke in a way that he had never felt for anyone else. Not only did he want to show her the exact extent of those feelings, but he also wanted everything to be absolutely perfect for her, as well.

As he walked into the room, he noticed that it was vacant. He searched the room for any clue of her whereabouts and noticed a few shadows of flickering candle lights, bouncing off of the wall next to her bathroom. As he neared the doorway, he paused and took a deep breath. Nervously, he pulled out his manifesto while he fought for the courage to move forward.

"You can do this." He whispered, encouragingly, to himself.

He walked slowly through the doorway and spotted Hawke, seated on the ledge of the bathtub, wrapped in her black robe. Her back was to him, her red hair down and draped over her left shoulder as her fingers glowed red with small, induced flames, which she skittered across the steaming water inside of the tub. Anders inched in closer, unsure of what to say.

Without any acknowledgment that she had been made aware of his presence, she spoke. "I was afraid that you wouldn't come."

He paused and then decided to be completely honest with her. "I—have been wandering around Lowtown for hours."

The movement of her fingertips halted and the glowing red of her spell vanished. She held her hand still, barely hovering over the water.

"Why?"

He inhaled and exhaled deeply, before responding. "Justice does not approve of my obsession with you... he believes that you are a distraction."

She remained motionless for a moment and then dropped her left shoulder, as she turned to gaze back at him. Her black robe slid down, revealing the soft pale skin of her neck and shoulder. As she made eye contact with him, her eyes penetrated his in a way that they never had before, and he stood, motionless, mesmerized by the way that the candle light danced provocatively within the shadows of her dark and ardent eyes.

Words poured from his lips melodically, as he fell under the spell of her fixated stare. "It is one of the few things in which he and I disagree."

Hawke stood and moved towards him and he watched, entranced, as the front of her robe parted with each motion of her swaying hips. She stopped, inches in front of him. Her voluptuous cleavage was in perfect view before him, her black silk robe subtly revealing the soft pink rim on each side of her nipples. His breath caught in his throat as he peered into the incandescent glaze, within her eyes, and beheld a desire that he had only ever dreamt about. His heart quickened, lost in her lustful gaze as she spoke.

Her voice was hushed and sultry as the words flowed from between her lips. "I'm glad to see that he didn't win." Suddenly, her eyes shot down to the pieces of parchment, crumpled within his right hand. "Is that… your manifesto?" She asked, confused.

The question broke his trance. He turned right and left, desperate for a place to get rid of it. Hawke searched his eyes, waiting for an answer. He fought to clear his brain and answer her, but was thwarted as he watched her quickly readjust her robe so that her tantalizing curves were no longer visible.

"Is that why you came?" She asked, almost accusingly.

Anders glanced at his manifesto and then back at Hawke as he stumbled out an answer. "Yes—wait!" He quickly shook his head to clear it. "I mean, NO!"

His brain felt muddled as he fought to adjust to her mood change. All that he could think about, was how he had been so nervous, that he had almost convinced himself that showing her his manifesto _was_ the reason that he was there. He had even told Fenris that it was the purpose for his visit.

_Fenris; Fenris had been outside, waiting for her._

Suddenly, the broody warrior's expression was crystal clear within his mind. As much as he hated that elf, watching him weighed down, had hit a little too close to home. It had been like looking into a mirror. Only, this time, the roles were actually reversed. A moment of sympathy had overtaken him and before he had time to change his mind, he had revealed his manifesto as an excuse for his late night visit. There was no doubt in his mind that Fenris had intended to see her, but—had Hawke been expecting Fenris, as well? Feeling confused, coupled with a looming expectation to break the silence, the words rushed out before he could stop them. He felt like a marionette puppet, with his rational and irrational thoughts fighting for control over the puppeteer.

"Are you sure that you even want me here? I thought that you and Fenris… "He managed to halt his words as Hawke's expression changed from confusion, to shock.

She paused, only briefly, and then turned her back to him as she moved towards the balcony door. She twisted the handle, hesitated, and then spoke. Her voice no longer held its former seductive allure. In its place, was something that made his heart clench within his chest; sadness.

"He left me... there's nothing more between us."

He watched as she passed through the door way, leaving it ajar behind her. Her hair whipped around in the icy wind, while she gently clasped the railing and gazed up into the star-less night. He cursed himself under his breath.

_Maker, I am an idiot!_

He pulled the tie from his ponytail and ran his fingers through his hair, in frustration, as he watched Hawke rub her arms together against the cold night air. He inhaled slowly, and then exhaled as he released his grip and dropped his manifesto on to the bathroom floor. The gusts of wind that swirled in, from the open door, carried the pages away from each other and sent them scattering across the tiles, but he did not care.

He moved in behind her and gently placed his right hand upon the soft, silken, fabric that covered her right shoulder. He half expected her to jerk away from him but, instead, she turned her chin slightly towards his hand. He spoke, softly, with mournful sincerity. "I'm sorry that he hurt you… ", He paused for an instant, and then moved his mouth down to her left ear and whispered, his lips brushing gently against her earlobe as he continued. "…but I can't be sorry if it led you to me."

Hawke sighed, relaxing her head against his right hand, which remained resting upon her right shoulder. He nipped softly at her left earlobe, feeling its effect on her, as small bumps rose beneath his lips. He grazed his mouth down her sensual, elongated, neck, while embracing her by wrapping his left arm around the top of her shoulders. She lifted her head and twisted it to her left, gazing back at him. He moved his mouth down below her ear, trailing it over the curve of her jawline, before finding her lips. She remained motionless, for a moment, and then parted them slightly. He took this as an invitation and began to nibble on the fullness of her bottom lip.

His fingertips began to move in a slow descent past her collarbone and he could feel the hotness of her breath quicken, in response. He pulled her plump, lower lip into his mouth, sucking softly as his fingertips parted the seams of her robe. He basked in her anticipation, as her heartbeat thumped wildly against her chest, while he inched closer to her cleavage. She shuddered once his fingers came to a halt, resting in the warmth between her breasts. She twisted her waist, slightly, and began to kiss him back, her mouth moving against his with yearning. He knew that she wanted him to stop there and he smiled against her lips, teasing her as he continued his descent.

He took his time grazing his fingertips over the smoothness of her milky white skin until he was barricaded by the knot in her robe. He untied it with both hands, causing the black silk to fall open at her sides, revealing her naked body to the dark, cold, night. He could feel tiny bumps rising on her stomach, in response to the frigid breeze, as he glided his right hand down to her hip and pulled her in tightly next to him. His temperature escalated in anticipation, as his free hand inched back up and took her left breast into his palm, kneading its soft plumpness within his grasp. Hawke broke away from their kiss, sighing with pleasure as she relaxed into his touch. She moved her lips back to his and slipped her tongue into his mouth, rolling it against his own, as he strummed at her hardened nipple beneath his thumb. She smiled against his lips while subtly rocking her hips, her curves rubbing against the pulsating stiffness beneath his robe, teasing him.

She then turned until she was facing him and gazed into his eyes as she shrugged her silken garment completely off. He allowed his eyes to wander away from hers, as he took in the magnificence of her naked body. He had not even noticed that the clouds had parted, until he realized that the bright full moon was the reason for the iridescent shimmer that danced across her pale skin. She looked ethereal; almost too perfect to even gaze upon. He raised his eyes back to hers, to find a small smile lifting in the corners. She moved back against him and pressed her lips hard against his own, as she coaxed his mouth back open with the softness of her tongue, and pulled him into a heated kiss. She tugged at his clothing, removing his pauldrons with ease and then, skillfully, unfastened the clasps on his robe as he remained completely consumed in her passionate kiss. She broke away from his mouth so abruptly, that he could barely make sense of the question that she whispered against his ear.

"So… you're not here to show me your manifesto?"

He turned his chin towards her lips, as his robe fell into a pool at his feet, and paused, encompassed in her smiling blue eyes. He ran his fingers through the long strands of her golden red hair and gathered a soft handful, into his grasp, at the nape of her neck. He tugged on it, gently, and ran his lips over the silky smoothness below her chin as he replied, whispering against her neck, his voice husky and thick with desire.

"No. Let me show you exactly why I've come."

(Anders, Bodahn, and Orana © Bioware)


	21. Part 21 Anders

**ANDERS**

Anders released his grasp on Hawke's hair and slid his fingers slowly down the length of her spine. Despite the cold night air, her skin was hot against his touch. He gazed down into the depths of her eyes and beheld a mirror image of the same insatiable desire that he could feel coursing throughout his body in droves. His mouth found her lips, once again. The softness of his touch was replaced with an urgent need as his fingers dug into her skin, leaving an impression, while he pushed her naked body tightly against his own. The hardness of her nipples, against his chest, caused him to involuntarily release from their frenzied kiss and let out a small groan.

His body was on sensory overload and he wanted more than anything to succumb to the unrelenting need and urge to gratify his pulsating ache. He had intended to be gentle with her and take his time exploring her body, but those thoughts were quickly replaced with an animalistic urge, as Hawke pulled his tongue into her mouth and sucked on it. His hand moved hungrily towards her inner thighs when, suddenly, she released from his mouth and peered studiously up at him. Her dark blue eyes were filled with speculation, as she spoke.

"Anders?" She whispered, as her eyes searched his face.

His lips curled into a seductive grin as he pulled her body back next to his. He kissed her neck with yearning and then whispered into her neck. "_Aven?_"

He could barely make out her mumbled reply as she sighed, with pleasure, and released her head backwards, so that he could have full access to her neck.

Their slight break in contact had been what he had needed to cool off, just enough, to stay his hand from taking her too quickly. He released from her neck and lifted her into his arms. He found her mouth and kissed her tenderly, as he carried her out of the cold and kicked the door closed behind him. He released from their kiss, just in time to witness the pages of his manifesto, litter the room in reaction to the whooshing air that was expelled from the doorway's quick closure. He walked over the pages as he made his way towards the tub and then slowly descended into its welcoming warmth.

As he submerged deeper into the encompassing liquid, Hawke arched in his arms, allowing her hair to be swallowed by the water. He softened his grasp on her, as the fluid embraced her form, weightlessly. He watched, hungrily, as the candle light danced across the sensual curves of her body. As Hawke lifted her head out of the water, he marveled at how alluring she looked with her hair wet and slicked back. He watched as tiny droplets of water slid down her chin, ran down her neck, and then over her ample bosoms before reluctantly plummeting from her perky nipples to rejoin the greater body of water within the tub.

He grabbed her hips and pulled her next to him and Hawke wrapped her legs tightly around his waist and kissed him back, ravenously. His right hand slid upwards, searching, until her breast was within his grasp then pushed the weight of their bodies forward in the water, until Hawke was pinned up against the side of the tub. He released from her lips and lifted her hips until she was propped up and off of the side of the tub, then kneeled down, in between her thighs, and took her perky, silken, nipple into in his mouth. His tongue explored her hardened nipple, nibbling and sucking, until Hawke moaned in pleasure. He moved his hands to her lower back and braced her with his strength, as his mouth trailed downwards, exploring the toned lines of her stomach until she was lying completely flat against the cool bathroom tile.

His right hand moved out from under her lower back so that he could caress her inner thigh. He lifted her knees over his shoulders, replacing his absent finger tips, upon her thigh, with soft kisses that led him towards her wet warmth. Hawke's breath quickened as he gripped her hips and began to kiss within her heated slit. He took his time enjoying the taste of her as he explored her velvety crevices with his soft kisses. His cock pulsated as he felt her clit swell beneath his tongue. He reached down, with his left hand, and coaxed his shaft as he pulled her swollen hood into his mouth and sucked. Hawke whimpered in response, and rocked her hips, encouraging him to continue.

He could feel her growing close to climax and was aching to be inside of her. He pushed his tongue into her soft depths, feeling her and tasting her. Hawke shivered in response, but he wanted more. He released his mouth and drove one finger into her, feeling her even deeper, before switching to two fingers. She gasped in pleasure and tightened around them. He conjured small bouts of electricity, which worked as a vibration, as he stimulated her inner ridges, rhythmically, which sent Hawke into louder moans of pleasure. Her inner thighs flexed and her breathing quickened; he knew that she was close to orgasm. He moved his mouth back to her clit and sucked on her while his electric fingers moved faster inside of her. Hawke's whimpering's grew silent, for a second, then she tensed and released, screaming out in rapture as her body shivered and writhed around him. He released her clit from his mouth and kissed her inner thigh as he slowed his fingers within the reverberating pulsations of her orgasm.

He licked his lips and then gently splashed water upon his face as Hawke lay motionless, reveling in her bliss. With her legs still braced on his shoulders he moved forward, taking advantage of her flexibility until his lips were once again locked with hers. He throbbed against her, eagerly, but was determined to wait until she was once again ready. As if reading his very thoughts, Hawke released from their kiss, propped herself upon her elbows, and then smiled mischievously, as she reached between her thighs and took his erection into her grasp. Anders groaned in response to her touch, his animalistic hunger growing unquenchable as her palm grew tighter against his shaft and her motion quickened.

Hawke's bright blue eyes twinkled seductively up at him as he kneeled, paralyzed, between her thighs, locked in the gratification of her touch. She sat up completely, the lower half of her legs still draped over his shoulders as she coaxed his swollen cock. He brought his right hand back in between her thighs and rubbed against her while her right hand continued to tighten around his shaft. A heightened desperation took over him as he felt her grow wetter beneath his fingertips. Perfectly in sync with his thoughts, Hawke guided him inside of her.

He inched in and out of her, torturously slow, building her up before he entered her fully. At last, he drove the full length of himself inside of her and they both let out an exaggerated sigh in unison. Anders pushed in and out of her, faster than he had intended to, but his body was taking over in a way that his mind could not control. He was over taken with a heated frenzy, intoxicated by the feeling of her. Three years of fantasizing about this very moment and it didn't even marginally compare to how it felt to actually be inside of her. All sensitivity was thrown out the window as he succumbed to his ravenous craving to feel her even deeper. Hawke's grip tightened around his neck as he pounded harder against her with escalating eagerness. For a split second, he feared that he was racing ahead of her but his fear was immediately dismissed as Hawke dug her nails into his neck, shooting fire down his spine, as she gripped him even tighter, inside, and begged him with escalating moans and breathless words to move faster.

He was dangerously close to climax and fighting with all of his might to hold back, when Hawke pulled his lower lip into her mouth and moved her tongue against his own. The feeling of her tongue, moving heatedly against his own, thwarted his concentration. He pulled away from her mouth, quickly, but it was too late to stop his automatic reaction. His cock was completely swollen with the pressure of his impending release. He couldn't think, he could just feel. As he began to climax, Hawke arched against him and cried out, louder than he had ever heard her scream. Spasms over took her body, in waves, as he came deep within her.

She continued to tremble against him, well after he had finished and her own breathing had slowed. He gently removed her legs from his shoulders, so that they were dangling in the lukewarm water of the bathtub, and Hawke slumped against him, still encompassed in euphoria. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her down into the water until she was resting on top of his lap, then kissed her neck tenderly and whispered the only thought that flooded his mind.

"I love you."

(Anders © Bioware)


	22. Part 22 Hawke

**HAWKE**

Hawke's eyes fluttered open, slowly, as she adjusted to the darkness in her room. She inhaled deeply and then tensed her body as she yawned and prepared to sit up. Anders subconsciously shifted in his sleep, tightening his arm around her and her eyes shot open, with the realization that his body was cradled against her own. In a rush, the previous evening came back to her, flooding her mind with the memories of their night together and, with it, the blatant awareness of how much her loins ached. Despite the stiffness in her thighs and the tenderness in her breasts, a smile lifted upon her face as she recalled the activities that had her feeling so sore; Anders' desire for her had seemed almost insatiable, he had kept her up the better part of the night.

She glanced over at the curtain closed windows, wondering what time it was as she carefully slid out from under Anders' blanketed arm, taking great care no to wake him. She immediately went towards the chaise lounge and searched blindly, with her fingers, for her robe. When she couldn't find it she sighed, perplexed, as to where it could be, until she recalled that it was lying on the ground of her bathroom balcony. She turned to the window and lifted the curtain, slightly. The stagnant cold air, held in by the heavy fabric, escaped and sent goose bumps to ripple down her naked body. The skies were perfectly clear and the sun was bright but she could tell that the wind remained relentless, by the way that the trees on the hillside leaned against its assault. She rubbed her arms, absentmindedly, shocked by the position of the sun; It was already high noon.

She dropped the curtain and turned from the window, allowing her eyes to readjust back to the darkness. She could see the silhouette of Anders' body rise and fall with each new breath. At last, her eyes completely adjusted and she could see his face. A smile lifted on her cheek; she had never seen him look so serene and peaceful. She was tempted to crawl back into bed with him when, suddenly, his words echoed in her mind, _I love you_. The smile faded from her face and she found herself turning away from him.

He had only said it once, but it had taken her by surprise. In truth, she was glad that he had kept her so deliriously occupied the rest of the evening. She had not had a chance to dwell on his confession, before submitting to blissful exhaustion; if she had, there was no way that she would have slept a wink. Even now she wasn't nearly prepared, or even consciously ready, to try and make sense of those feelings. She spotted the dark red shawl (that Mother had made her), draped over the chair next to her desk. She grabbed it and wrapped her body in its soft wool as she willed herself to drive Anders' words from her mind; she wasn't ready to think about it, quite yet.

The soft scratching, of Titan's paws on her bedroom door, came as a much welcome distraction. She went to the door and opened it, slightly. She smiled down at Titan's panting face and then brought her index finger to her mouth before opening the door further and pointing in the direction of Anders' sleeping body. She watched as Titan's eyes flitted from the bed and then quickly back to her. He dropped his head slightly and growled quietly in disapproval.

Hawke smiled, choking back a giggle, as she whispered to him, "He's not _that_ bad!"

Titan looked steadily back at her, unconvinced.

"He likes you! He's just… more of a cat person."

Titan's expression remained unchanged.

Hawke exhaled deeply, kneeled down, and ruffled his coat as she peered into his onyx eyes.

"For me?" she pleaded.

Titan's tail began to wag back and forth and then he licked her face.

She smiled back at him and then whispered, "Thank you."

She stood and gestured for Titan to follow her, before gently closing the door behind him, and he padded behind her, soundlessly, towards the bathroom. She was shocked by the state of the room. The tub was still full of water and the candles surrounding it had burned all of the way down, leaving a mess of dripped and dried candle wax inside, outside, and on the floor beside the tub. One of the pages of Anders' manifesto lay floating on top of the still water; the rest, were scattered throughout the room, some with candle wax stuck to them, as well.

She sighed and looked down at Titan and shrugged. "At least the estate didn't burn down." Titan barked back at her in agreement.

She moved forward and opened the door to the balcony. A gust of wind whooshed in and carried a page of the manifesto back out with it. She tried to grasp it, but it slipped through her fingertips and was carried off, like a bird in flight, weaving throughout the trees and buildings of Hightown. She closed the door quickly, forgetting her purpose for opening it in the first place, and began gathering up the scattered pages, of Anders' hard work, trying to salvage what she could. Titan climbed on to the side of the tub and nipped carefully at the parchment floating on top of its water. She carefully removed the soggy paper from his mouth and laid it out on the hutch beside her, surprised that it wasn't a total loss; only a small portion of the page's inked in words were blurred out.

Once all of the pages were gathered in her hands, she studied the room, shaking her head in disapproval as she mumbled to herself, "Poor Orana, she is going to have her hands full today." She then turned towards Titan. "Speaking of Orana, how did she do last night; any more nightmares?" Titan whimpered, sorrowfully, in response. "Did she wake this time, or were you able to help sooth her?" In answer, Titan straightened his body, proudly, wagging his tail excitedly as he let out a high pitched bark. She scratched his head and beamed down at him. "Good boy! Thank you for watching out for her!" She kneeled down and hugged him close. "Although, I do miss you—but she needs you more, right now." Titan turned his head and licked her cheek.

She smiled and stood, stepping on her shawl and nearly disrobing herself in the process. "Oh, my robe; I had almost completely forgotten!" She said, shaking her head at her absentmindedness. She wrapped herself back in her shawl and, once more, opened the door to the balcony. As she stepped outside, the wind whipped at her hair and, despite the sunshine, the cold air bit sharply at her skin. She tightened her shawl against her, warding off the chill; she was positive that the temperature had dropped low enough to snow. She stood dumbfounded at the emptiness before her, her eyes racing over every inch of the tiny enclosed area. Her black robe and Anders' clothing were nowhere to be found. She leaned over the railing searching to see if they had simply been carried to the ground below her, but there was nothing there.

She sighed and frowned down at Titan, "That was my favorite robe!" Suddenly, it hit her that Anders' only articles of clothing had been lost to the wind. "He won't be pleased." She giggled, as she spoke her thoughts aloud to Titan. "Well, we had better find something for Anders to wear. Do you suppose that Mother kept any of Carver's old clothing?" she wondered aloud to herself. Titan cocked his head to the right, confused by her verbal train of thought. "Well, let's go find Bodahn, shall we?"

Anders and Orana © Bioware


	23. Part 23 Anders

**ANDERS**

Anders' heart started racing before he had fully awoken. He could hear two voices whispering and feared the worst; that the Templar's had come for him. His eyes shot open and flitted, wildly, around the room. For a second he panicked, disoriented by his surroundings, and then spotted Hawke. He inhaled, with relief, releasing all tension in his body, as the previous evenings events played back in his mind, and a small smile crept across his face with a realization that, for once, it had not been a dream. He studied Hawke, crouched next to her elven servant, Orana, the two working together to build a fire within the hearth. Orana must have heard his movement because she grew suddenly silent and glanced back at him. When she saw that he was awake, she turned back to Hawke and whispered into her ear, stood abruptly, and then hurried out of the room.

Hawke looked back over her shoulder at him with a large smile that lit up her face. The fire in the hearth reflected against her cheek, causing her dark blue eyes to brighten against the yellow glow. Her beauty took his breath away. "We were trying not to wake you." She said, her eyes smiling up at him.

He stretched. "You should have woken me up when you did, especially if the house is awake."

She laughed, her blue eyes sparkling back at him; he loved her laugh. "Everyone has been awake for some time; it's later than you think."

He sat up and looked at her, puzzled. "How late is it?"

She stood up and walked towards him. He was disconcerted to see that she was fully dressed and wondered how much time had passed since she had awoken.

"It's already midafternoon."

He looked back at her, awestruck, he couldn't remember the last time that he had slept six hours in succession, let alone all day! Granted, they had been up most of the night, but to sleep so soundly and not even in his bed! Actually, Hawke's bed was much more comfortable than his cot, but still, he could hardly believe that he had slept so much.

Hawke must have recognized the confusion in his expression because she crawled onto the bed next to him and kissed his furrowed brow. "You need not worry about it. You needed the sleep, so I let you sleep."

He smiled back at her, pulled her chin towards his, and kissed her lips, tenderly. "Thank you, then."

She smiled, in return, but it faded too quickly. He could tell that something was heavy on her mind and then realized that the whole house must be aware of his presence in her bedroom.

"Does your Mother know that I'm here?"

She smiled and laughed. "I am a grown woman, Anders!"

He had witnessed far too many conversations between Hawke and her mother, to believe that it was as simple as that. Leandra was constantly trying to set her daughter up with some type of aristocratic noble but, to his great relief, she had never shown the slightest bit of interest in the idea. He knew that Hawke's mother was much more traditional in her ideals (especially in terms of courtship), and although Hawke, clearly, didn't share the same mindset as her, he knew that she respected her Mother far too greatly to upset her. He lifted his eyebrow at her, unconvinced, and watched as Hawke caved in and smiled sideways before letting out an exaggerated sigh.

She bent down and kissed his lips. "You know me too well." She conceded. "Mother left early this morning and she hasn't returned yet." She giggled then, as if recalling something, "I made Bodahn and Orana pledge fealty to me." she added, jokingly.

He smiled at her, pushed the blanket off of himself and began to stand. "I should leave before she returns, then."

Hawke grabbed his arm and halted his motion, her eyes sweeping over his body before peering up at him seductively. "I have a different idea."

She pulled him back to a seated position and leaned in to kiss him, straddling his waist in the process. He kissed her back, hungrily, but then hesitated as his mind flooded with angst and uncertainty. He tried to push the thoughts away and get lost in her kiss, but once again, he found himself consumed in inner conflict.

He knew better then to fight against it, so he pulled away and whispered against her lips "Can we talk…?"

"Later." Hawke whispered, cutting him off, as she pushed her lips back against his and trailed her fingers down his stomach.

He surprised himself, as he gripped her waist and gently removed her from his lap. All triumph over his self-control, came to a jilted halt as he beheld Hawke's look of disapproval. "Aven, I want you—_badly_" he emphasized "…but my head is spinning, I really need to talk to you _first_."

She exhaled deeply, her irritation obvious in her voice as she conceded. "Fine... let's talk, then."

"There were Templar's sniffing around my place a few days ago; I barely slipped out the back in time." He watched as Hawke's body language softened and her expression filled with concern. "When I first woke up, I had forgotten that I was here and the first thing that I thought of, when I heard you and Orana, whispering, was that the Templar's had found me. As much as I was relieved to find out that it was not the case, I still haven't been able to shake the feeling, it's putting me more on edge than I had realized."

Hawke looked back at him in surprise, "Why didn't you tell me?"

He tilted his head down, his eyes narrowing at her, pointedly. "I didn't want to worry you, especially with everything that was going on."

She exhaled through her nose as she peered back at him with frustration. "You should have told me!"

He smiled softly at her and cupped his hand around hers. "I'm telling you now… and, well, things have changed since two days ago." He paused, briefly, before continuing in the most casual tone that he could muster "I may, soon, need to find a new place to stay."

Hawke's grin grew. "Are you asking to move in with me, Anders?" She giggled and then added, playfully, "Mother would _love_ that."

He shifted his gaze momentarily away from her, embarrassed that she had caught on so quickly without realizing it. Hawke studied his face and grew silent and he watched, apprehensively, as the magnitude of what he was eluding to, sunk in and registered in her expression.

"Oh." She responded, quietly.

"I thought that you might appreciate not having to step over the drunkards in Darktown every time that you wanted to see me." He teased, hopeful that his joke would lighten the mood and erase the thick awkwardness that tensed between them.

When Hawke remained motionless, as if she were lost in her thoughts, he began to lose all courage. He squeezed her hands, which were still resting inside of his own, as he gazed deep into her eyes. "I meant what I said to you last night." Her eyes flickered and he knew that she understood what he was referring to. "Even amidst all of the madness that surrounds us on a daily basis, I find myself happier than I've ever been in my whole life! You should have a normal life and not be tied down to a fugitive with no future, but I don't ever want to leave you! Being with you makes me feel complete."

He gazed into her eyes, anxious for a response, but only silence filled the air. Each passing second, felt like an eternity, suffocating him as he remained locked in her blue eyes, waiting for her to say something; _anything_.

At last, her lips parted. "I—I don't—know…"

He watched as Hawke struggled to form a sentence, her face twisted in anguish, to say the words that he didn't want to hear. The realization swept over him in full force, blinding him with the pain of her impending rejection. He dropped her hands and leaned away from her. Try as he might, he couldn't mask the shock that he knew was painted on his face so vividly.

He felt sick, suddenly aware of how vulnerable he had made himself. Within an instant, the sadness turned into irrational anger and before he could stop himself, the words poured from his mouth, full of disgust. "It's because of _him_, isn't it?" Hawke gazed back at him, stunned. "You're in love with him!" He stated, accusingly. He scoffed, ashamed with himself for having been so blind. "I'm such a fool!" He stood up, abruptly, and made his way to the bathroom in search of his garments.

"Anders… wait!" Hawke pleaded, as she trailed behind him.

Part of him wanted to stop and listen to her, still hopeful that it was all a misunderstanding, but he knew better. The damage had already been done and he knew that he no longer had the strength to listen to her tell him the opposite of what he had hoped to hear. Frustration and hurt boiled within him as he scoured the bathroom and balcony for his clothing.

"Where are my clothes?" He demanded, refusing to make eye contact with her.

"Gone." Hawke half whispered.

He stared at her incredulously, her eyes downcast as she attempted to form some sort of explanation. "The wind, I think…" She trailed off, as she met his scornful gaze.

He scowled back at her, trying to make sense of what she was saying. "The wind blew away my clothes?" He asked, irritated.

"…and my robe." she added, timidly.

He sighed, leaned against the hutch, and rubbed his temple, "Wonderful."

He watched as Hawke turned and left the room without a word and stood there, naked, hurt, and absolutely clueless as to what he was going to do next. Never had he felt so alone or so lost. He lifted his hand; a piece of parchment had stuck to his palm. When he looked down, he realized that it was a page of his manifesto. The pages had been gathered up and stacked neatly into a pile. He was half tempted to use the papers as some form of cover, when he spotted a folded towel on the hutch. He grabbed it and wrapped it around his waist. Just as he was gathering enough courage to leave, in nothing but a towel, Hawke walked back into the room with some clothes folded in her arms.

She stretched them out towards him, as she spoke. "Bodahn found some of Carver's old clothing that Mother had never thrown away. It's just a tunic and trousers, but it should do for now… if you don't mind wearing them."

He took the items from her. "Anything is better than getting arrested." He dressed in them quickly, trying to ignore her gaze upon him. At last he looked at her and his chest constricted at the tormented confusion that was so obviously painted across her face. He quickly dropped his eyes from hers. "I would certainly prefer not to have to explain this to Aveline." He added with a slight smile (more for Hawke's sake, than his own). He turned, grabbed his manifesto and moved past her, walking with haste out of the bathroom and towards the exit of her room.

"Anders, please wait!" Hawke called out after him.

He paused, the door knob twisted in his hand. Afraid of losing his resolve, he didn't dare to look back at her. "Don't" he responded, as his eyes remained steadily transfixed on the hallway in front of him. He moved forward and stepped through the doorway, trying his best to mask the sting of his heartache as he closed the door quickly behind him.

(Anders, Orana, Bodahn and *some* dialogue © Bioware)


	24. Part 24 Fenris

**FENRIS**

Bodahn had barely shown Fenris into the entry way when he saw a man, moving quickly towards him. At first, he didn't recognize him. Anders' hair was down, instead of up in his typical ponytail and he was dressed in odd clothing. He had never seen Anders in anything other than his ridiculous feathered mage robe (he had always thought that Anders was a fool for not wearing proper armor). For a split second, he found himself curiously wondering what had Anders leaving in such a hurry, when Anders looked up, made eye contact with him, and stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes were like daggers as he glared back at him. He was caught off guard by Anders' hostility but he masked it well, as he matched his disdain and peered back at him with equal displeasure.

He didn't see the point in niceties, especially when Hawke wasn't around; she was the only reason that he ever felt the need to be somewhat civil when Anders was present. Still, this was odd behavior for Anders. For the most part, they typically tended to avoid each other altogether when they crossed paths.

Anders continued his forward motion, his eyes not once straying from his. "Figures." he scoffed, as he closed the distance between them.

He clenched his jaw, unable to stop the expression of annoyed perplexity that crossed his face and Anders rolled his eyes at him as he shook his head with disgust before finally turning away from him.

Just then, Hawke came running frantically down the stairwell, yelling after Anders. "Anders! Stop, don't leave, let me just...!" her words trailed off, as her eyes locked within his; her expression filled with shock as she gaped back at him. "Fenris…?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but was halted by the sound of the door of the estate slamming behind him. He turned around to find exactly what he had expected; Anders had left. When he looked back up, his heart sank. Hawke stood, paralyzed, her eyes fixated on the door. He watched solemnly as her shoulders rounded, as if she were holding far too heavy of a weight upon them, while she gazed, mournfully, at the emptiness.

He hesitated and then spoke. "I apologize. I see that I have come at a bad time."

Hawke's eyes moved back to him and flickered and then she quietly descended the steps, her eyes never moving from his. As she neared him she spoke. "It's been a while."

He dropped his eyes. "It has."

When he looked back up, she was still staring at him, her blue eyes curiously searching his face. Silence clung to the air and he found himself transfixed by her beauty as she continued to move forward, closing the distance between their bodies. He managed to tear his eyes away from her and clear his thoughts long enough to speak.

"It seems as though I've had ill timing. Perhaps—I can come back tomorrow?"

She shook her head, softly. "No. Stay."

She stood there, staring at him as if she had not seen him in years and he grew warm under her speculation, suddenly aware of the thick tension that reverberated between them. She blinked her eyes, self-consciously, and then looked in the direction of the den as she spoke. "Let us go somewhere more comfortable."

He nodded, politely, and when she turned, his eyes dropped to her hips, mesmerized by her sway, as he followed her into the den. She took a seat and then gestured for him to do the same. As he sat down, Hawke looked back at him, expectantly. He knew what he wanted to say, but he still wasn't quite sure how to say it. He readjusted, uncomfortably, rose and walked over to the fire, rubbing his hands together, against the flickering heat, as he spoke.

"It's getting cold."

She was silent for a moment and then responded, methodically. "Yes, cold enough to snow."

"I'm still not used to the weather here." he mumbled, as he peered into the roaring flames. He turned, slightly, and made eye contact with Hawke. "Have you been well?

She nodded her head slightly. "Yes; ...you?"

He nodded, in return, a little more eagerly then he had intended. "I've been reading a lot."

For the first time, since he had walked into her mansion, Hawke perked up and smiled. "Anything good?"

He smiled back at her enthusiasm. "Yes, several that I would highly recommend."

"I haven't read anything since we…" The smile on her face faded as she trailed off and uncomfortably dropped her eyes to the ground.

He looked back at her in anguish. "I didn't come here to talk about the weather or books, Aven."

Her head shot up in astonishment.

"The last time that we saw each other, I fear that you got the wrong impression." He looked deep into her eyes and released the words that choked in his throat. "Nothing happened—whatever you may have thought—It wasn't—with Isabela." He exhaled with frustration, he sounded like a complete idiot.

Hawke peered back at him, awestruck, and then slowly, a smile began to inch up her face. She dropped her eyes, smiling into her lap. "Oh."

He turned away from her, ill at ease, and began to walk towards the door.

"Are you leaving?" she asked to his back, her tone tipped with confusion.

He halted but didn't turn. "That is all that I came to say."

There was a shroud of silence between them. The fire crackled hungrily, in the hearth, and then he felt Hawke's fingers on his palm. He turned and peered into the depths of her smiling eyes, her body inches from his. It felt as if she were peering into his soul. The deep blue of her iris seemed to swirl and lighten as she whispered softly to him, "Thank you."

He desperately wanted to take her into his arms, to hold her close and feel her lips against his own, but before he had the chance to act upon his feelings, she released her grasp, on his hand, and stepped away from him. The confusion in her eyes was clear as she moved back to her seat and shifted her eyes away from his. He stood, motionless, watching as her eyes remained transfixed on the fire's flickering flames.

"I've missed reading with you" she admitted, suddenly.

"I have, as well." He added without hesitation, surprising himself. He paused for a moment, but decided to speak the words that immediately entered his mind. "Perhaps—we should start again."

Hawke glanced up at him in surprise and then smiled as she responded, "I would like that."

He smiled back at her, in return, and held her gaze, forcing himself to speak, even though he would much rather just remain lost in her eyes. "My door is always open… to _you_."

Her eyes warmed and sparkled up at him and he remained transfixed in her gaze, for as long as he dared to allow himself to. Reluctantly, he glanced away and offered his departing words. "Until next time, then?"

Hawke turned away from him, her grin growing as she nodded. "Until next time".

He walked out of the den, his mind still fresh with Hawke's smiling eyes. Inadvertently, he made eye contact with Orana. She dropped her gaze quickly, but then slowly looked back up at him, a small smile lifting on her face before returning to her duties. He was surprised; he had never seen the girl smile before. It was then, that he realized that he had been grinning from ear to ear.

(Fenris, Anders, Bodahn, and Orana © Bioware)


	25. Part 25 Hawke

**HAWKE**

For the first time in weeks, the sun was out and the winds were calm, seducing all of Kirkwall to leave their homes and enjoy the crisp autumn air. Due to the beauty of the day, the gallows were especially busy. There were hordes of people gathered around the merchant tents, making it difficult for Hawke as she wound in and out of the crowds of people, searching for any sign of him. She stood on her tippy toes, in attempt to better locate him in the mass, but Titan spotted him before she did and dashed through the crowd of people, knocking over a tranquil mage in his enthusiasm.

"I'm so sorry!" Hawke implored, breathlessly, as she reached her arm out to help the middle aged woman return to a standing position.

Once she was fully upright, Hawke released the woman's hand and quickly scurried off after Titan, barely making out the woman's polite "Thank you" in the typical non inflection monotone, characteristic of a tranquil. She pushed through the path, taking advantage of the gap that still remained, as shocked bystanders stood awestruck by the war hound that had barreled through them. By the time that she spotted him, Titan was lapping his face with kisses.

"Keran!" She exclaimed with excitement.

Keran looked up and flashed her wonderful welcoming smile. "Haw-Aven!"

He stood up and met her half way, surprising her as he pulled her against him into a tight hug. He pulled back and laughed at the shocked expression upon her face.

"Aven, we've kissed each other, what's a hug between friends?"

She immediately relaxed.

"True", she giggled, as she pulled him back into her, allowing herself to enjoy the comfort of his strong arms embracing her. She _needed_ that hug. She was an emotional mess, completely confused and in utter anguish as to what to do. Over the past few days, her life had seemed to be falling apart around her.

"Oh and... you _may_ call me Hawke." She muffled into his shoulder.

He pulled back and grinned at her. "You received my letter! I wasn't sure if it had made it, since your urgent note, this morning, made no mention of it."

She sighed and stepped out of his arms. "Yes… I'm sorry. The past few days have been… complex. I awoke in a complete panic this morning and I _really _needed someone to talk to. You were the first person that I thought of." She bit her lip, nervously, "I hope that's alright…"

Keran's blue eyes softened with an expression of tenderness. "It's more than alright, of course. I'm here for you!"

She sighed with relief, leaned back into his arms, and whispered into his neck. "Thank you."

Titan wound between Keran's legs, fighting for his attention, forcing Hawke to release her embrace on him. "I've never seen him like this with anyone!" She exclaimed, laughing. "He loves you!" She then turned her gaze from Keran to Titan. "Should I be worried that you'll run off and join the Templars?" She said with jest, as she peered into her loyal hounds sparkling black eyes.

Titan cocked his head towards her and whined.

Keran laughed, bent down and ruffled Titan's mane. "Well, there you have it Hawke, he would never leave you!"

"Thank the Maker!" She stated with playful exaggeration, as she bent down and joined Keran in petting her massive Mabari.

Keran glanced up at Hawke and then looked into Titan's eyes. "Should we tell her boy?"

Titan barked in agreement.

"Tell me what?" She laughed.

He ruffled Titan's head and then gestured for her to sit on a bench close by, as he replied. "Titan and I go way back."

She sat down beside him as she eyed him with intrigued amusement. "Is that so?"

Keran glanced back at her slyly "Mmhmm", he added with nonchalance. "In fact… I must confess that I knew who you were before you saved me from that sanctuary." His smile widened at her look of thwarted bewilderment. "It's a bit hard to miss when a beautiful woman moves down the street from you."

She peered back at him wonderstruck, when it hit her. "Oh! That's right, your family lives near my Uncle Gamlen!"

He nodded. "You moved in right before I had been accepted into The Order. Your Mother used to take Titan for walks, when you were away doing whatever it was that you did. I think that I heard once that you used to work for a group of Smugglers; that true?"

She dropped her eyes from his as a slight ting of remorse encompassed her. A few weeks ago, Athenril and her smugglers had ambushed Hawke, on the streets of Lowtown, when she had been out with Varric, Isabela, and Merrill. It had been over an old grievance from years past.

She and Carver had once taken pity on a young Ferelden refugee that had been working for Athenril. The poor lad had been tasked with handing over a bribe from Athenril to her rivals, The Coterie. If she had not shown up when she had, the boy would have been slaughtered by them. She and Carver had encouraged the boy to take Athenril's chest, filled with goods, and start a new life outside of Athenril's service. Naturally, Athenril had not taken well to the news and her last words to Hawke had been those of a threat.

Athenril had waited three years to ambush Hawke, but it had not worked out as she had planned; she and her band of smugglers fell, rather quickly, to the skilled hands of Hawke and her friends. Even though Hawke had always been indifferent to Athenril, she had not hated her. The way things had ended had left her feeling bittersweet.

"My _dear_ Uncle Gamlen sold my brother and me into servitude for a year, in order to buy our way into the city and settle a debt of his own. If it had not been the only way to get my family into Kirkwall, then I never would have done it."

"Then it's true?" Keran eyed her in amazement. "Maker, Hawke, you are dangerous!"

She laughed "You're just now discovering this?" She added with playful menace.

He shook his head and laughed. "No, not at all, I knew you were trouble the moment that I set eyes on you, but Smugglers that were enemies of The Coterie? You have more tricks up your sleeve that I had realized!" Keran winked amorously at her "You really do have us all so intoxicatingly fooled with those large blue eyes and flushing pink cheeks!"

She laughed out loud and flashed him a devilish grin and he shook his head in amused disbelief. "Maker, what have I gotten myself into? You are far too good at this!"

There was something about Keran that put her completely at ease. She felt positively carefree and miles away from her troubles when he was near, it reminded her of how things had been with Bethany.

_Oh, Bethany_

She smiled at the thought of her little sister. "I wish you could have known my sister, Bethany. She would have liked you."

Keran perked up, surprised. "I didn't know that you had a sister."

"She was killed—while we were fleeing from the dark spawn in Lothering." The image of her little sister lying lifeless on the black, hard packed, soil, suddenly filled her with immeasurable sorrow.

Keran must have noticed the sudden change in her demeanor because he reached out and cupped her hand within his own and whispered with sincerity, "I'm so sorry."

She shook her head and smiled weakly back at him. "No, it's alright; I sometimes forget how much I _really_ miss her. She was fun, kind hearted to everyone, and despite the fact that she was just as burdened with magic, as I was, she still managed to stay amazingly positive. She constantly exuded this beautiful ray of sunshine."

"She sounds wonderful."

"She was." She said, dropping her head.

She realized now, that she spent so much of her time keeping busy, just so that she could avoid these very thoughts. Thinking about Bethany, and even Carver, hurt too much. They were a constant reminder of how she had failed her family. The pain was too deep, too heart wrenching to willingly go back to.

"You remind me of her." She said softly, desperate to choke back the tears that were threatening to escape.

Keran lifted her chin gently with his fingertips, his soft blue eyes peering deep into her own with genuine sympathy. She could feel her face flushing under his piercing gaze, when suddenly Titan barked, breaking her trance. Keran smiled down at Titan, cleared his throat and gently released his clasp on her chin.

"You are quite right Titan, we were talking about you! How did we get so off track? Should we tell Hawke how Macha used to beg me to stow away saved scraps from our meal so that we could give them to you the next time that we saw you?"

Titan barked and licked Keran's face.

"Well, someone was spoiled!" She said, with a slight smile, thankful for the subject change.

She studied Keran as he smiled down at Titan and her heart clenched. She knew that Keran's family didn't have much, which is why he had tried so desperately to get into the Order. Without him, Macha and his father would, most certainly, starve. She had not thought much about how things had been before he had started his training as a Templar, but the fact that he had used the word "meal" instead of "meals" had not gone unnoticed. This wonderful man had once saved food, from the only meal of his day, to share with her dog. She gazed back at him, awestruck with admiration.

Keran glanced up at her with a grin plastered upon his face, unaware of the conclusion that she had come to, his hand still mindlessly petting Titan as he continued. "So I guess that you could say that Titan and I have known each other for years. Though, I definitely knew who you were, even if you didn't notice me."

She gazed back at Keran with a heartfelt smile on her face, "Why didn't you tell me before?"

Keran held her gaze, cleared his throat and readjusted, uncomfortably. "Yes, why didn't I? Oh, that's right! Certainly it wasn't embarrassing enough that a beautiful woman, that I had secretly admired from afar, had to rescue me from a den of blood mages, knowing full well how I had gotten myself into that mess in the first place." He added sarcastically.

She giggled. "What… Because I know what goes on in the Blooming Rose?"

He dropped his eyes and flushed, fiercely, which she found adorably endearing. "Keran, I honestly didn't think twice about that. Besides, I have a friend that goes there all of the time!"

Keran lit up with curiosity, "Let me guess, the Brother in the Chantry? It's always the one's that you least expect."

"Sebastian?" Hawke laughed. "Maker, No! It's Isabela, actually!"

He arched his eyebrows, surprised. "Isabela? Well, well, she most certainly lives up to her reputation, doesn't she?" He grinned at the thought, and then his expression changed as something suddenly dawned on him, "Don't tell Drake that, if he knew he would bother me even more incessantly!"

They both laughed and then Karen shook his head momentarily lost in thought. "So… tell me what's so urgent!" He added, changing the subject.

She inhaled deeply and sighed with exaggeration. "It's all very confusing!"

"What is?"

She laughed, keenly. "My life!"

Keran cocked his head to the side and raised his eyebrows. "Oh, really—and when exactly did your life become so _very confusing_?" he emphasized.

She sighed, "I guess that it started to get especially off balance a few days ago."

"Well then, let's start there; what happened?"

"Let's see… I went to visit Anders…"

"Oh, yeah? Is he still acting completely mad?" Keran laughed at his own joke but then straightened up and grew silent when she shot him a sideways glance. "I mean, is he still having a… rough time?"

She couldn't help but smile at his attempt at a smooth recovery. "No, he's doing better—a lot better, _actually_, which puts me to mind, have you heard anything about Sir Alrik and the other Templars?"

Keran's voice dropped to a whisper as he leaned in towards Hawke. "The Knight Commander knows about their deaths, but she is still completely in the dark as to who was behind it."

She released her breath, unaware that she had been holding it. "Thank the Maker!"

"You were saying?" he asked, getting the subject back on track.

She chewed on her lip, finding it difficult to say the words that were blaring in her mind. At last, she pushed the words out of her mouth, in a rush to free them. "He told me that he loved me!"

Keran blinked back at her, unsurprised, and then laughed. "Of course he is!"

She stared back at him incredulously and wrinkled her eyebrows in frustration. "You say that as if I should have _known_!"

He sighed with exasperation at her. "Hawke anyone that has seen Anders around you can tell that he is madly in love with you."

She pondered his words for a minute and then spoke. "Do you think that _all_ of my friends know?"

"I'm positive that they do." Keran added, matter-of-factly.

Suddenly all that she could think about was that if that were true, then Fenris knew too and for some reason, that bothered her.

Keran spoke, snapping her out of her thoughts. "So how did he go from almost killing an innocent girl to professing his love for you?"

There was something in his tone that put her immediately on the defensive. "Keran, please don't make light of that. I have never seen him in more pain and anguish then he has been since that day. It haunts him every day and, really, the fact of the matter is, that he _didn't_ hurt her."

His face dropped. "I'm sorry Hawke. You're right; it's just that it's my duty to protect people from mages that can't control themselves. To be perfectly honest with you, I fear for you! I'm afraid that it's simply a matter of time before he succumbs to the nature of the abomination inside of him and takes you down with him."

Keran's voice had grown unexpectedly serious, and although she knew that there was some logic in his words, it angered her nonetheless. Keran didn't know Anders like she did; he had not seen the things that she had! Anders didn't have an abomination in him; he had a spirit of Justice, a friend! Yes, he struggled with that choice, but he was amazingly strong! Anders could control Justice; she had seen it with her own eyes!

"He said something similar about you." She mumbled back at him, regretting it the second that it slipped past her lips.

Keran's face immediately dropped, causing her gut to twist into knots. "What did he say?" he asked, in a whisper.

She sighed and peered back at him apologetically. "He's just worried that my friendship with a Templar, will put me on to the scent of the others in the order that are… _less_ accepting."

He gazed deep into her eyes, enforcing the magnitude of his sincerity. "I would _never_ do anything to _ever_ put you into harm's way. I would fight anyone that stood against you, friend or foe!"

She could see the anguish in his eyes and suddenly she was filled with guilt and frustration towards herself for having said anything. She nodded softly, trying her best to console him and express her regret. "I know, thank you—and that is, basically, what I told him."

There was an uncomfortable stretch of silence between them, which made Hawke feel increasingly anxious with each passing second that he remained quiet. The last thing that she had wanted was for there to be awkwardness between them. At last, he spoke and she released the air in her lungs, unaware that she had been holding her breath again.

"So—the confession—how did that happen?"

She was grateful for the change in subject, but a bit embarrassed to answer him. She shifted her eyes uncomfortably, gazing up into the clouds as her face grew blood red. "He told me after we had become more… _familiar_ with each other."

She could feel Keran's gaze burning into her, but she was too mortified to look back at him. He paused for so long, that she had almost gathered enough courage to chance a glance back at him (in order to read his expression) when, at last, he finally spoke.

"I see."

When she finally dared to meet his perceptive eyes, she thought that she beheld a flicker of sadness behind their icy blue reflection. Keran slowly dropped his eyes from hers and scratched Titan's head as he questioned her.

"And… do you love him back?"

She squished her forehead together in dismay and then slumped forward, resting her forehead in her palms. "I—don't know. I care about him, deeply, but beyond that…"

She threw her arms up animatedly as her anxious fretting rushed out in one single breath. "The worst part is that he completely poured his feelings out to me and I had no idea how to respond. Then to top it all off, Fenris showed up, right as he was leaving!" She sucked in a quick breath. "I'm so confused and it's been three days and he hasn't replied to any of my messages!"

Keran reached out and clasped her flailing hands within his. "Ok, slow down. What is this about Fenris?"

She took a deep cleansing breath, "Fenris showed up when I was trying to stop Anders from leaving and I was so stunned by his presence that I let Anders go."

He suddenly released her hands. "Why was Fenris there?"

She couldn't help the subtle smile that pinched at her cheeks, "To tell me that nothing had happened between him and Isabela."

Keran sat, silent for a moment, mulling over her words. "Interesting… Did he say anything else?"

She blushed at the memory, "That he wants to start reading together again; we used to read almost every night." For some reason she had felt the need to explain that.

Keran studied her face for a moment and then asked, directly. "Are you in love with Fenris?"

"Wh—what?" She said, stumbling for an answer. "I…" She could feel her face burning up. "I care about him but... he hurt me..." She could hear her voice shaking. "How could I possibly know that, Keran? How does anyone ever _know_?"

The left side of Keran's face dimpled into a half smile that didn't reach his eye. "You just know."

She paused, surprised by his answer. "Have you been in love?"

He sat perfectly still, silently searching her eyes. "Yes."

"How did you know?"

Keran gazed back at her, unblinking, and then wrinkled his forehead as he dropped his eyes from hers. "You just _do_; it's a feeling that you can't deny."

"What do you feel?" She whispered.

He glanced up at her and shook his head and then inhaled deeply before peering up into the sky. "You feel elated when they are with you, sadness when they're not. They are always on your mind—and the very thought of them makes your heart sore." He paused, deep in thought for a moment, before continuing. "You feel over whelming joy, coupled with a consistent insatiable yearning to be around them, to the point that when you're not with them—your heart actually aches."

He dropped his eyes back to hers. "You trust them and would do anything to make them happy."

Titan pushed his head under Keran's palms and Keran glanced down at him. "They complete you in a way that you never knew was possible." he added, as he mindlessly massaged around Titan's ears.

She appraised Keran as they sat in silence; it was obviously painful for him to speak of. Hadn't Anders basically said the same things to her when he had poured out his heart to her? A lump grew in her throat as she silently watched Keran, lost in his own sadness, and the realization of how much Anders must be suffering, hit her full force. No wonder he had not replied to any of her messages.

"What happened to the girl that you were in love with?" She whispered, secretly hoping that Keran's experience would somehow shed some light on her predicament.

He analyzed her for a moment and then quickly turned his gaze to Titan whose head was now resting in his lap. "I never told her." He glanced back up at her and smiled, curtly "…but we are not talking about me, we are talking about you."

"Why did you never tell her?" She asked, ignoring his attempt to deflect back to her.

He paused and studied her, before his face broke into a grin. "Because she's completely clueless, like someone else I know!" He said, prodding his finger against her shoulder, sportively.

She pouted her lips in faux offense. "This has all just happened so fast. It feels like I can't even catch my breath, let alone try and make sense of my feelings!"

Keran surprised her as he laughed heartily. "Then don't! To the Void with all of this nonsense, let's just leave this place and go somewhere where you don't have to think!" He glanced down at Titan and scratched behind his right ear. "What do you say boy? You me and Hawke just gather up our things and set off on an adventure?"

Titan stood on his hind legs, his tail wagging excitedly, as he barked with approval.

She laughed as she momentarily entertained the idea. "Run away from my problems? _Very_ tempting, but seriously..."

Keran stared blankly back at her, "Who said that I wasn't serious?"

She pursed her lips together, distressed. "_Keran_, please!"

He sighed, "Hawke, I can hardly tell you what your feelings are, let alone if you are in love. That's something that you need to figure out for yourself."

That was not what she wanted to hear. "And how exactly am I supposed to do that?" She scoffed.

He shrugged "Talking to the person that's confusing you, sometimes helps."

She rounded her shoulders, encumbered; Anders wasn't even replying to her messages!

Keran leaned over, grinning as he bumped his shoulders against hers. "My offer still stands!" he added, with a wink.

She humored him with a slight smile in return, but the truth was that she felt even more confused than before she had come to talk to him! Keran was right about one thing, though, she needed to sort out her feelings and for her own sanity, as well as Anders', she knew that she needed to do it soon.

She nodded her head, "You're right; let's get out of here!" She added with mock enthusiasm.

Keran perked up until he realized that she was only joking. "No, then?" he added, with a semi grin.

She shook her head softly as she stood from the bench and gazed down at him. "But thanks for listening to me ramble on... _again_!"

Keran smiled endearingly up at her. "For you? …_anytime_!"

She peered down at him and placed her hand on his shoulder. "You should tell her, Keran."

He gazed up at her perplexed.

"The _clueless_ one." She added coquettishly, while beaming down at him.

Recognition to what she was eluding to, lit up in his pale blue eyes and he dropped his gaze from her as he scratched around Titan's ears. "Perhaps, someday, I will."

(Fenris, Anders, Keran, and the Dragon Age Universe © Bioware)


	26. Part 26 Hawke

**HAWKE**

Hawke moved quickly through the basement of the estate, she had not been in its depths since the discovery of her Grandfather's will, three years prior. Since reclaiming it, she had avoided descending into its dark cellars. It reminded her of Carver and any thought of him saddened her. The two had never been close, not like she and Bethany, but he was her little brother and despite his driveling jealousy issues, she loved him.

That fateful day in the Deep Roads, was still crystal clear in her mind. She had been so desperate for any chance to keep him alive that she had immediately grasped at Anders advice to find the Grey Warden's, who were the only ones capable of curing the blight sickness. The Warden's help had not come without a price, however, and even though he had survived the ritualistic joining, she knew that he had resented her for having made that choice for him; a choice that ultimately bound him to lifelong servitude under the calling of a Grey Warden.

Her house had hardly been her own over the past few days as an assortment of her workers, from the Bone Pit, had been reassigned to help get her cellar refashioned within a timely manner. She stopped at the room on the lowest level, which led directly into Darktown, and admired the transformation that had taken place in so short of time. The room was quaint and cozy, due to Orana and Bodahn's final additions.

Draped around the walls, to hide the pock marked oak was heavy maroon linens that cascaded from ceiling to floor. In the middle of the room sat a king sized four-poster bed, pushed up against the furthest wall, decorated with an assortment of stuffed goose feathered pillows, crisp white cotton sheets, and a thick wine colored comforter. A mahogany desk was pushed up against the eastern wall, its legs resting on an Orlesian rug of intricate designs, spun together with threads of rich earthy browns, deep reds, and shimmering gold's. A few feet off of the opposite wall, sat an Antivan three-paneled dressing screen, adorned with a golden filigree frame and cloth panels made from the same rich colored fabric as the bedspread.

She absentmindedly readjusted her grip on the packages under her left arm, as she twirled the cellar key between her thumb and forefingers and appraised the room. She inhaled deeply, taking in the stagnant musky smells of the cool damp wood (which made up the foundation of her families estate), mixed together with the rich, tangy, aroma of barrel aged wine. She moved over towards the desk and set the package down on it, repositioning it towards the edge so that it would be immediately visible. She then crossed the room and moved behind the screen, where she tucked her second package out of sight. She readjusted the candles, which were strewn throughout the room, positioned high and low on golden candlesticks of all shapes and sizes, before stoking the fire that blazed within the brazier (a special metal receptacle that she had custom fashioned to safely ward of the nipping cold).

As she turned and made her way out of the room, she found herself fretting over whether or not he would find the room equally appealing. In a much slower pace than her previous stride, she neared the exit that led into Darktown. It had been a week since she had last seen Anders. Seven, anxiety filled, days since he had poured out his feelings to her and she had been at a complete loss as how to respond to him. His confession had caught her so wholly off guard that it had rendered her speechless. All thoughts had vanished from her mind, as she had struggled to clumsily piece together the magnitude of his desires for her. He had fled her estate before she had even been able to assimilate her feelings, let alone express them to him. Then, Fenris had shown up. His presence had been so welcome and the nature of his visit, even more so. It had given her hope and made her heart alight with the prospect of renewal, but what type of renewal she was still unclear of.

It wasn't until later, as she had pondered over the events of that day that she had realized how very complex everything had become. Over the past week she had been in anguish over her feelings for both of them, not knowing what to do or how to feel. Anders wanted a relationship, to be tied completely to her, and to live together. Fenris, she had no idea what Fenris wanted. Had he simply told her those things to correct their friendship, or was it more? The endless inner debate left her frustrated day and day out. Talking to Keran, a few days earlier, had helped her at least get her thoughts outside of her head, though he hadn't been much help on the subject. If she had taken anything from their conversation, it was an increasing curiosity about his mystery woman.

She clutched the key in her hand, squeezing it within her palm, as she stood in front of the door that exited into Darktown. Her eyes squinted against the darkness while she blindly forced the key into the latch, twisting it right and left until it fit perfectly into the hole. She took a deep breath as she unlatched the lock, exhaling as she pushed it out before her. Her body tensed, as she silently walked forward, Keran's playful sarcasm echoing in her mind, _"Talking to the person that's confusing you, sometimes helps."_ She was still completely unsure of what to say to him, but something had to be done. She was hoping that being near him would invoke the feelings and words that she had been searching for, day in and day out, over the past week. She pulled the key out of the knob and quietly closed the door behind her.

As she neared the entrance to the clinic, she beheld Anders silhouette through the open door. His back was to her and his shoulders were rounded as he hunched over the table and scribbled vivaciously upon a piece of parchment. She relaxed, a bit, as she entered the room and discovered that he was alone.

"Hawke" he stated without even glancing back.

She halted, awestruck. The furious scratching, of his quill's strokes, seemed deafening in the silent room.

"How did you know that it was me?"

Anders paused, placed his pen down and slowly turned around. "Why have you come?"

The flatness behind his eyes, made her swallow nervously. "We need to talk." She said, as she gathered back her courage and began to close the distance between them.

As she neared him the coldness in his eyes faltered, for an instant, betraying the pain behind them. He dropped his gaze to the ground and she crouched down until she was eye level with him. Her breathing felt exaggerated and her heart felt as though it were going to burst through her chest as she waited, with her arms wrapped around her knees, and stared back at him, willing him to make eye contact with her. At last, he moved his eyes to hers and she beseeched him as she searched his eyes.

"Anders I don't want things to be like this between us."

The softness, that she had momentarily beheld, in his gaze, turned to stone as he peered back at her. "Perhaps you should have thought of that before you invited me into your bed."

She pulled slightly away from him, a knee jerk reaction from the biting sting of his words, and inhaled before leaning back in towards him.

"You're right, I didn't think of the ramifications of my actions, I was only thinking of how I wanted to be with you…" she paused and gazed into his eyes, emphasizing the meaning of the words that she was about to say. "…because I _do_ care about you." Anders eyes softened once again, the anguish reflecting back at her, crystal clear, in his golden brown hue.

She gathered his hands into hers and stood, tugging on his fingertips. "Come; I want to show you something."

Anders rose, hesitantly, as she interlaced her fingers within his and tugged him forward. She walked slightly in front of him, leading him back towards the hidden entrance to her estate's cellar and then unclasped her hand from his when they reached the door. She dug into her pocket for the key and glanced back at him with an excited smile on her face, but it quickly faded as she observed the morose solitude in his countenance.

"Anders, I'm trying to make this right. Please, let me try." She implored with an aching plea.

Anders dropped his eyes and then nodded, softly. "It's just been a difficult past few days." He replied, in nearly a whisper.

She stepped in towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck. He remained still and unyielding for a moment and then gave in and melted into her hug. She buried her head into his neck and then moved her lips cautiously upward until he tipped his chin down and allowed her mouth to meet his. She moved her lips softly against his, until he responded and tenderly kissed her back. As their kiss deepened, he dug his fingers into the fabric of her bodice, pulling her in tighter against his chest. Suddenly, he released her and pulled away.

"Aven…" he whispered in agony.

She put her forefinger to his lips, gesturing for him not to speak, as she stood gazing into his dimmed brown eyes, hoping that somehow he could see the magnitude of her own anguish reflected back at him.

"Follow me." She spoke, at last.

Without waiting for a response, she turned and unlocked the door. Anders followed silently behind her, as she led the way towards the flickering lights. Once they reached the room, she turned around and watched as he took in the extent of his surroundings. She began to worry, when he remained perfectly still, his expression unreadable as his eyes roamed studiously over every inch of the room.

She spoke, suddenly, in an anxious rush, bringing his attention back to her. "Before you say anything, I know that this is not what you meant when you implied that you wanted to move in with me. I want you to know that I have thought a lot about the things that you said to me, that afternoon. I know that it was far from easy for you to tell me your feelings, and I am so sorry for the way that I responded, or… lack of response, actually."

She fidgeted with her fingers, nervously, as she inhaled, peering deep into his eyes. "I need you to know that I honestly was not prepared to hear those things—your feelings… not that they were unwelcome!" She shook her head in frustration with the lack of eloquence in her speech.

"Anders, I need for you to keep in mind that you have had three years to think about all of these things! _Your feelings for me… what you want… a relationship!_ The realization that I had feelings for you, only dawned on me a few weeks ago and I feel like I am trying to play catch up with you and I'm honesty not sure how to do that!"

She paused for a moment searching his eyes to see if he was grasping what she was trying to convey to him, but his thoughts were completely hidden; his expression and countenance gave nothing away, other than that he was listening. She bit the inside of her cheek and then gained enough courage to take a step closer to him. He became notably surprised, by her proximity to him, and she used that advantage to entreat him with the magnitude of her sincerity.

"These feelings are new to me and it's still too soon for me to understand what they mean. I care about you, deeply—I know that for sure, but the rest—I just need time. Please, Anders, _please_ be patient with me; don't shut me out and ignore me!"

She watched him, nervously, while chewing on her lip in anticipation. He stared back at her, searching her eyes, and then turned his back to her and began to pace around the room and then halted, deep in thought, his eyes transfixed on the Orlesian rug below his feet.

Finally, he looked up at her. "You're right. I had not considered how quickly this has all happened for you." She gaped back at him, dumbstruck; she had not expected that response. "What's that?" He said, pointing towards the brown paper package lying on the desk beside him.

"That's uh—oh, that's—for you!" She said, stumbling over her words as she tried to readjust to the sudden shift in their conversation.

He moved towards the package, picked it up, and then glanced up at her for reassurance. She nodded softly and watched as he tore open the brown paper wrapping. A small grin grew on his face as he pulled the dark robe from the paper and it unraveled from its folding, cascading out before him. He glanced up at her and, for the first time since she had seen him, an actual smile crossed his lips.

"I figured that you were probably tired of wearing my brother's old clothing." She said, smiling shyly as she moved to his side and ran her fingers over the heavy wool fabric. "I had it specially made for you by one of the tranquil mages, at The Gallows; she infused it with rare runes that should help you maintain your mana and intensify your magic's strength with your healing and _other_ spells."

Her cheeks flushed, as a specific memory of his use of electricity inadvertently came to mind and she was grateful that he was too absorbed in examining the robe, to notice.

"It's magnificent, Hawke, thank you."

She smiled endearingly back at him and he subconsciously looked up in response. His eyes warmed and flickered as he silently held her gaze. Her body stirred as the sexual synergy between them, tensed and expanded.

"Try it on!" She encouraged, breaking the silence as she stepped away from him. "I have one more—uh—thing behind here." She quickly retreated behind the screen and took a deep breath. There was definitely no denying the magnitude of their chemistry.

"You did all of this for me?" He said, gesturing towards his surroundings.

She peeked over the top of the screen as she replied. "You need somewhere safe that you can go. I've been worried ever since you told me about the Templars showing up in your clinic and I wanted you to be able to keep the clinic for your patients, but also have somewhere else that was safely hidden and more comfortable." She paused and then added, with emphasis. "Also, now, you can just walk up the stairs whenever you need anything."

"_Anything?_" Anders asked with a suggestive glint in his eyes.

She peeked over the top of the screen and smiled coyly back at him. "Well, within reason." She teased.

He shot her a sideways grin and then focused in on unbuttoning his tunic. She watched through the slats, between the frame and fabric panels, as Anders carefully removed his shirt and then tossed it on to the edge of the bed. Her heart quickened as she examined the beautiful toned muscles in his shoulders and her breathing slowed as her eyes wandered downwards, taking in the sculpted lines of his chest and abs as he unfastened his trouser and allowed them to fall down at his feet. As he stepped out of them, he glanced up, and grinned as he caught her eyes on him.

"Do you like the room?" She asked in a rush, embarrassed that he had caught her ogling his body.

"It's amazing—everything is amazing. You didn't have to do all of this..." He stood still, meeting her eyes behind the slats in the screen, and then asked with sudden curiosity. "What are you doing behind there?"

She flashed him a sultry grin. "Come here and I'll show you."

Anders' grin grew as he walked over towards her. As he slid in behind the screen, the smile from his face vanished and his breathing momentarily ceased. She grinned with delight as she watched his eyes roam up and down every inch of her naked body. There were two abilities in her life that she dominated exceptionally well and which gave her insurmountable confidence; her combat skills and her use of her sensuality.

"Varric found these." She said, leading his eyes back upwards, with her index fingers, as she pointed to his missing pauldrons which she had fastened to her shoulders. "A dwarf in the merchant's guild found them in Hightown and was trying to sell them." His eyes were filled with lust as he met her gaze and she bit her lip seductively as she stared back at him. "Do you like the way that they look on me?"

He accentuated his nod and then continued to roam his eyes back over her form. She moved in towards him and slowly ran her fingertips down the length of his chest, stopping at his navel, before placing both hands on his waist. His excitement grew as her fingers gently fluttered down his v line, trailing in a slow, accentuated, descent, until she reached the hem of his small clothes and pushed them down off of him. A small groan escaped his lips, in anticipation, and she halted her fingers and watched as his body responded to her touch. She glanced seductively up at him and then moved her lips against his, kissing him passionately.

She leaned into him, grazing her nipples against his bare chest, as she ran her lips along his earlobe and whispered. "I'm going to please you, Anders."

His eyes blazed with desire as she pulled back and gazed into them. She grinned at his response, moved her lips back against his, and then cascaded kisses down his chin. He arched his neck back and she slowly trailed the softness of her lips down, sucking on the bumps of his Adam's apple, before reaching the base of his neck. Her lips explored further, inching down the midline of his collarbone, her hands resting on his hips, as she took her time moving her mouth over the pronounced muscles of his chest, while gliding the tip of her tongue over each of his nipples in the process. She leaned forward, exploring further down his midsection, as she lowered her knees to the ground. Her mouth continued to roam over each defined muscle of his abdomen, while he throbbed with eager expectation.

She glanced up at him and made eye contact, grinning mischievously, as she took him into her hand. He quivered and leaned back against the wall, succumbing to her touch, as she glided her hand up and down his length. She held his covetous gaze and then released it as she leaned down and licked the tip of his staff, tasting the saltiness of his excitement, as she gripped him tighter and moved slightly faster. She continued her licking motion teasing him, as she gradually increased her speed, before taking his pulsating tip completely into the warmth of her mouth. He moaned as she sucked on his head, with increasing urgency, before sliding her lips further down his length, and then repeating the motion slowly and tortuously as she enjoyed the taste of him.

He placed his hands on her head as she grew more heated in her efforts, his fingertips sinking into her hair, as she bobbed her mouth up and down while coaxing the base of his shaft in unison. She could feel his girth swelling against her lips and reveled in his eagerness. She continued to push him in and out of her mouth as her hands trailed down to his package, gripping him softly while massaging him in her palm, as she sucked relentlessly on his tip. She drove his shaft deeper into her mouth, in and out, enjoying his body's reaction as he grew in depth and rapidly neared his climax.

Anders moved his hand to her ponytail, as her mouth slid repeatedly over him, and then tugged on it, halting her motion. She peered up at him with great pleasure as the magnitude of his salacious desire reflected back at her. A blue glow glinted across his eyes and warmth swirled deep within her. She grinned, knowing full well what that meant.

The first time that Anders' brown eyes had blazed blue back at her, had been their first night together on the balcony. She could still remember being taken off guard and whispering his name, out of confusion, before his warm brown eyes had reappeared, gazing back at her seductively. It was then, that she had realized just how very much he and Justice were intertwined. Countless times, that evening, she watched as Anders grew licentiously enthralled in their union, inadvertently inciting Justice's blue haze to burn before her and she knew, without a doubt, that Justice was equally bewitched. There was something about the knowledge that even Justice couldn't resist her that instantly excited her.

In a ravenous motion, Anders lifted her up against him, his fingers digging into her hips as he plastered his body against her own. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him with a salacious need, as he moved his hands to her legs and hastily wrapped them around his waist. He groaned against her lips as he turned and slammed her against the wall, then pulled his mouth away from her, breathing heavy and exaggerated as his brown eyes penetrated her with an unrelenting appetite that even she couldn't deny. Within an instant, he was inside her, driving against her with an animalistic frenzy. She succumbed completely to him, basking in the overwhelming intensity of his need for her. She arched against him as he drove in and out of her, relishing in his width and moaning in pleasure with each heated thrust.

Her body responded quickly as a tingling warmth began to pool deep within her. She whispered his name and he quickened his stride even faster against her, causing her face to quickly flush with heat. She could feel the warmth flooding her body and she moaned his name again, pleading with him to satisfy her.

He groaned and whispered his encouragement as he slammed hard against her, "Aven—yes, cum!"

Her body immediately responded to the invitation and she screamed out as she was enveloped in a massive surge of euphoria. The feeling washed over her in waves and then intensified as he expanded, releasing inside of her, sending even more heightened droves of ecstasy to course through her. She trembled against him as she remained pinned between his tight body and the soft maroon linen, which blanketed the wall, as her body pulsated regressively in gratification.

Anders' voice called out to her, gradually growing from a subtle whisper as he repeated her name, "Hawke… Hawke… Hawke?" Her eyes fluttered softly, in response, but she wasn't quite ready to let go of the elation and open her eyes.

Aven; _AVEN!_

Her eyelashes blinked open, hesitantly, as Anders' voice changed from hunger to anguish. Her eyes felt blinded by the light as his face came into view above her. The warmth dissipated at once, and was suddenly replaced with a lashing pain that seared throughout her side. She cried out and tried to sit up, but she couldn't move.

Anders peered with concern down at her and then sighed with relief. "Oh, Thank the Maker, you're awake—don't move!"

Anders, Varric, Carver, Bethany © Bioware


	27. Part 27 Fenris

**FENRIS**

Fenris stood in a daze, watching as Hawke's chest slowly lifted with each shallow breath. She was pale, not the soft porcelain pink that he was used to; she looked sunken, sickeningly drawn. Her vibrancy was gone and the emptiness that filled its place, made him feel numb and in a state of surreal disconnection. His breathing slowed to match her own as his gaze shifted vacantly to Anders' hands which glowed blue as they worked diligently to heal the gaping wound in her side.

"Fenris?"

Aveline's voice echoed in his mind as if she stood at shouting distance, not right beside him. It wasn't until she repeated his name a second time, that he reluctantly tore his eyes away from Hawke's unconscious body and made eye contact with her. She looked at his chest piece pointedly, before silently shifting her gaze to Hawke's mother. Leandra sat on a stool beside her daughter, clutching Hawke's limp fingers in her palm, tears streaming down her cheeks while she stared in a vacant stupor at his chest. He abstractedly followed her gaze and beheld what was holding her focus; his black armor was encrusted in dried blood.

He blinked his eyes repeatedly, as if to register the reality of it all, and turned his palms up, studying the amount of Hawke's blood that painted his hands. He looked up, suddenly aware of all of the pairs of eyes trained on him—so much blood; her blood—on his hands. All at at once, the Keeper's tent seemed to swallow him whole, suffocating him in its cramped, crowded space.

"Merrill, I need more water…" He glanced up suddenly, in response to Anders' voice. His head was down, working laboriously on Hawke's wound, but he glanced up at him for a moment as he finished his train of thought. "Perhaps you can also show Fenris where he can rinse off." Anders' eyes and face clearly betrayed the extent of his exhaustion, and for a split second, he worried—not for Anders' well-being, but for his ability to keep up the stamina needed to continue to heal Hawke.

He cursed the Dalish keeper for leaving Hawke's side to attend to that half-elf boy. He had once warned Hawke that it was foolish to help the boy who was plagued with nightmares of demons; he had known that it was only a matter of time before the monsters' hold on him grew greater. Feynriel was a danger, but as in countless times before, Hawke had not heeded to his warnings. She often leaned towards the merit of hope in people, rather than logical sense. It was a trait that he both feared and admired. He was not capable of such leniency, he had seen too much darkness in people to ever believe in goodness and strength the way that she did. At the time, he had been glad that at least the boy would be miles away from the city in the Dalish camp, but now that he was here, demanding the attention of the only other healer around for miles that could aid Hawke, he couldn't help his mind from wandering to thoughts of silencing the boy, and his dreams,permanently.

"Yes, of course…"

He shot his head to the side in response to Merrill's voice and was impulsively engulfed in rage. He could feel the lyrium in his skin burning as he glared at her. It was her fault that Hawke was lying nearly lifeless before them. If it had not been for her incessant obsession over that accursed mirror, then they would never have ventured into that cave! He knew that the lyrium in his skin was beginning to illuminate because every fiber of his being was screaming at him to take up his sword. Merrill shrunk under his scornful scrutiny and then quickly turned in the direction of Anders' voice.

"Marigolds." Anders added, abruptly, in a hoarse whisper, "It would accelerate my healing and help prevent infection."

He followed Merrill's gaze towards Anders and his fury ignited further, causing his lyrium to blaze vehemently beneath his skin. He no longer saw a healer worn and tired as he struggled to keep Hawke alive, he saw a man with the weight of his guilt etched into every fine line that creased in distress upon his face. The longer he watched him, the more disgusted he became. Anders should have been there to protect her, and he could tell that Anders was wasting away under the brunt of that knowledge.

He did not know the extent of what had transpired between Hawke and Anders, the very notion of the thought of them together, made his blood boil and his stomach turn, but he knew enough to know that they were no longer on talking terms and that, for a reason that he could not comprehend, it bothered Hawke. Even more importantly, he knew that she had asked for Anders help and that he had ignored her plea. As he fought for the control to stay his hand from striking the only healer that was keeping Hawke alive, he found himself reflecting on his earlier encounter with her. She had seemed distant and distracted from the moment that he had left her estate earlier that morning…

_He had been nearing her estate and had been surprised to find her closing the door behind her as he had approached. A small smile had crept upon her lips as she had turned around and spotted him. _

"Fenris?"

She looked beautiful, though he distinctly perceived a pair of dark circles that hollowed her bright eyes. He knew the effects of sleepless nights well, and speculated over what it was that was keeping her from her rest. "Are you leaving?" He asked, trying to mask his disappointment.

"Yes—I" He watched as she trailed off from her train of thought and cocked her head to the side in attempt to read the binding of the book in his grasp. "What are you reading?"

He self-consciously repositioned the book in his palm so that he could read the writing, even though he already knew the title. "It's…" His mind went blank as if he could no longer string the words together and make sense of them. "I—brought it—for you, actually."

A large smile stretched across her face and he found himself smiling in return as he focused in on her full red lips.

"Did you bring it to read—_together_?"

Her words snapped him out of the memories that had him recalling the feeling of the softness of her lips. He glanced in a daze back at the binding of the book before recalling his purpose. He mustered a quick recovery and reached the book out towards her. "It had crossed my mind."

He glanced up, only to be lured immediately into the smiling of her bright blue eyes, as her fingers grazed over his amidst the exchange. "I would love to—but, I promised Merrill that I would help her today."

His chest sunk with the magnitude of his disappointment. "Ah…"

"Actually, I was just on my way to find you and ask if you would accompany us; we have to go to the Dalish camp."

He paused in thought, the Dalish elves and their superiority complex annoyed him, plus he dreaded the thought of spending a whole day in Merrill's presence.

"And then we could read this when we return." Hawke added with a playful glint in her eyes as she waved the book, that he had just handed her, in front of his face.

A slight smile lifted on his left cheek. "I would like that."

Her smile widened at his response. "Then it's settled! Let me—just check on one thing. Come inside, I just need to quickly speak with Bodahn."

He followed her into her entry way and waited as she rounded the corner. She spoke in no more than a whisper, but he heard every word that she uttered.

"Bodahn, has there been any response from Anders?"

"No, Mistress." Bodahn's words were notably heavy, as if it were a question that he had dreaded to answer.

"Alright—thank you." He could vividly hear the disappointment in her tone and his current state of elation extinguished instantaneously. "Oh—and please tell mother that I will be gone all day."

_It was from that point forward that an obvious change had taken a hold of her. She had become quiet, withdrawn, lost in her thoughts. She had not spoken, unless spoken to, and nearly every question pointed at her, had need to be repeated. He had not been the only one astutely aware of it either; Aveline had seemed even more overbearing in her protectiveness of Hawke, insisting to scout ahead more frequently than what was typical of her. Even Merrill, who was prone to rattling on incessantly, had remained remarkably silent for the better part of their journey and had keenly followed Hawke's every move._

In hindsight, the events that had transpired should not have come as a surprise. For three years he had studied Hawke in battle. At first, it had been out of skepticism over her ability to wield her magic but in time he grew to respect her control and trust her instincts. He disagreed entirely with Hawke's insistence to help Merrill gain the Dalish Arulin'Holm, but he had not pushed the issue—he should have. He had already been concerned over the present state of her mindset and had known, when the keeper instructed them to slay the beast in the cave, that it was a needless risk. Hawke was rarely caught off guard, but when she was, she recovered quickly-except today. Her distracted thoughts coupled with having to focus on spells that she rarely used, was what had imbalanced her and left her as a perfect target for the Varterral.

_He could still see it clearly, it had all happened so fast, and yet it had felt like an eternity as he had been forced to watch in horror, frozen helpless and unable to protect her._

The beast was focused on Aveline as she lunged forward, taunting it, while she bashed her shield repeatedly into one of its monstrous legs. It cried out in pain and stumbled backwards, imbalanced, then recovered and crouched forward, jutting its face down to eye level with Aveline, as it bellowed a screech into her face. In an instant, Aveline's mace collided with the monster's head, stunning it just long enough for him to skirt to the right and thrust the length of his sword into the beast's side. The monster's high pitched scream was blood curdling and he smiled to himself knowing that with one well placed blow, the monster would be dead. Suddenly the beast twitched in agony before him; he glanced quickly towards Merrill, her eyes were glowing red; the witch was using blood magic.

He un-sheathed his sword from the beast's side and felt the aura of Hawke's magical barrier encompass him. He meant to strike the beast again, but instead locked eyes with Hawke and watched mesmerized as she used the beast's momentary subdual to replenish the spell on each party member. The white glow of her spell dissipated from her eyes and a sense of foreboding engulfed him. He had never seen her appear so entirely exhausted. She rarely used those spells; typically Anders was the one casting protection spells. They were more difficult for her to maintain and were leeching her strength—what little she had left. Everything in him was screaming to go to her, but there was not time. Merrill's temporary hold on the beast lifted and the beast flared in a rage, spewing poison at her. Merrill dodged the hot liquid, by using her magic to call upon the earth, which swallowed her whole and then instantaneously tunneled her up safely at Aveline's side, but Hawke had not been so quick.

The hot poison splashed onto Hawke's side, its erosive acidity burned straight through her chain linked armor and onto her skin. Hawke screamed out in pain, causing the beast to take notice of her in her solitude. Within an instant the beast jumped a hundred feet into the air and landed on top of her, pinning her beneath its hovering mass as its monstrous spiked tail drove into her with precision, spearing into her flesh where her armor had melted away.

Fenris stood paralyzed in horror. The next thing he knew, he was roaring as he sprinted across the length of the cave and lunged at the beast, hurling himself in the air as he sprung onto its back. Before the monster had even had a chance to gloat over the fallen prey beneath it, he drove his sword through the back of its neck. Merrill disappeared into the earth, reappearing beside the beast and pulled Hawke from beneath its swaying body, a mere second, before the beast collapsed upon the dirt.

He didn't pause to think; he quickly jumped off of the lifeless beast and gathered Hawke's limp body into his arms, pressing his ear to her chest as he strained to listen for her heartbeat. When he located the familiar thumping, he turned his head and caressed her face, pleading as he whispered to her. "Aven, stay with me!" He then stood, with Hawke in his arms, and turned towards Aveline and Merrill's frozen forms. "Aveline, find Anders, _now_!"

Without another word, he turned and ran as fast as he could. He didn't feel the dead weight of her dying body. He didn't see the blood of her wound spilling out on to his chest. All that he could think was that his feet couldn't move him fast enough and that his eyes couldn't find the Keeper quick enough. Panic and fear fought to consume him, so he listened and clung to hope as his ears rang with the only sound that mattered, the slowed struggled beating of her heart.

"I-I think I know where to find some."

Merrill's voice snapped him out of the memory and he glanced down to see that his lyrium markings were no longer illuminated. Recalling the events had stripped him of his anger and filled him with remorse—if only he had been faster—if only he had slain the beast when he had first had the chance!

"I will help you Merrill."

He looked up to see Keran moving towards him. He had been too distracted to notice his presence before. He glared at Keran, the last time he had seen him, had been at the Hanged Man weeks prior, and at the time he had been looking at Hawke in a way that had tremendously bothered him. Why was he here? He watched as Titan stood up from Hawke's feet and trotted over to Keran's side, which took him by surprise. He had never seen that dog leave Hawke's side for anyone else before.

"You want to help too boy?" Keran said, scratching behind Titan's ears.

He knew that Hawke had spent the remainder of that evening, weeks past, at The Hanged Man with Keran (thanks in no part to Isabela) but the fact that her war hound seemed so familiar with him, surely meant that she had spent more time with him since. The thought aggravated him.

"Aveline—I need space and – she needs privacy, I'm going to need to remove her chest piece." He understood that in order to heal her, Anders would need to have full access to her wound, but fire flared in his veins at the very thought of Anders disrobing her.

"Yes, of course—Leandra I should get you back home and find Varric, Sebastian, and Isabela, they don't yet know."

"No, I'm not leaving her, Aveline! She's my child—she _needs_me!"

"Leandra, there is nothing you can do, and the man that is attempting to save your daughter's life needs space! Look at him, he's exhausted, he needs to be able to concentrate!" He was surprised by the severity of Aveline's tone, but he knew that part of it was due to her own grief. "Everyone here is leaving and its best that you find comfort in the solace of your home. Believe me, you will be the first to know if there is any change. I will post one of my guardsmen outside of your estate and he will bring you as soon as there is any word. Until then, you must rest and trust that she is in the best capable hands."

Hawke's mother was renowned for her stubbornness, perhaps Aveline's forcefulness was necessary in order for her to listen, but it didn't lesson his surprise any, as he watched as Hawke's mother kissed her daughter's fragile hand and then wearily arose.

"I expect to be notified the exact moment that you know anything, Aveline!"

"I give you my word, Leandra."

"Guard Captain, on your way back would you mind stopping at the Gallows and letting the Knight Captain know where I am? My departure was abrupt and I have not yet had chance to send word."

"Yes, of course Keran, I will see to it personally. Cullen knows Hawke and I am certain that he will be lenient given the circumstance." He narrowed his eyes at Aveline, irritated that she was encouraging the boy to stay.

The Templar sighed in relief, "Thank you, I am in your debt."

Aveline shook her head. "No, just make sure that you find marigolds and whatever else he needs for her." She added, while gesturing in the direction of Anders. Keran nodded eagerly and she allowed her eyes to rest on Hawke's motionless body for a moment, before turning towards him and locking her eyes in his. For a second he beheld the grief in her green eyes, but they quickly turned to stone as she prodded her finger against his chest. "You, clean off, it's unnerving us all!"

Aveline was forceful by nature, but she was taking it to a whole new level. Had it been anyone else to speak to him that way, he would have seen red. Clearly she was becoming unhinged. He wondered if taking Leandra home wasn't merely an excuse to escape the madness that was fighting to consume them all.

"Anders—I had almost forgot…" Keran turned back and picked up a brown package that was on the ground where he had been seated. "I know that she had wanted to give this to you herself, but given the circumstances, I think that you should open it now."

Undoubtedly, by _"she"_, he meant Hawke. The foreign feeling of jealousy inched up his spine as he examined the paper satchel in Keran's outreached hand.

"Set it beside me." Anders said without glancing up at the gift.

"I suggest that you open it now…" Keran added.

"And I will." Anders stated, cutting the boy off, "When you are all gone." Anders glanced quickly up, conveying the meaning behind his answer as he locked eyes with Fenris. It wasn't that Anders didn't want the whole room to know what she had meant to give him—he didn't want _him_to know.

He balled his hand into a fist, fighting off his vexation, as he turned from Anders's gaze and walked out of the tent. Aveline and Leandra followed behind him and he immediately noticed his sword leaning up against the side of the Keeper's tent. A party of the Dalish hunter's must have ventured into the cave and brought it back for him. Merrill and Keran walked out from the tent and he narrowed his eyes at them as he grabbed his sword's hilt and strapped it to his back.

"Fenris, I'm counting on you to bring word as soon as there is any change."

He glanced over to Aveline, surprised by the sudden softness in her tone and then glanced to Hawke's mother, her eyes red, puffy, and glistening with new tears. "Of course, I will not have you wait a moment longer than need be."

As Aveline said her good-bye's to the rest of the group, Fenris walked in the direction of the mountain. He needed space, to breath fresh air in silence. He had not allowed himself a chance to consider the prospect of losing Hawke but being alone, encompassed in the blackness of the night, allowed the thought to seep in and take root, paralyzing him in overwhelming despair as a single thought nagged at him, repeating over and over in his mind, fighting to destroy him:

_I have never told her how I feel about her._

"Fenris, the pond is this way."

Merrill's words yanked him out of his introspection and he watched as Keran quickly shifted stances and unsheathed his sword. However, what really caught his attention, was Hawke's war hound crouched in front of the boy, his teeth snarling as he growled up at him. The dog's protectiveness over the boy surprised him.

"Put your sword down, mate." Keran added, cautiously.

He studied the anxious expression on both of their faces and glanced down, in a stupor. His sword was drawn, an instinctual reaction to being caught off guard, but he knew what was really agitating them. His tattoos were glowing a bright red into the darkness, due to Hawke's blood that still stained his skin. Aveline's words whispered back at him in a rush _"…it's unnerving us all"_. He narrowed his eyes at Keran and adjusted his stance as he slowly fastened his sword to his back.

"I'm not your _mate_." He added, before turning his back to them and walking in the direction that Merrill had gestured to.

"Maker, is he always like that?" Keran spoke in a hushed whisper, but he heard every word.

"Oh, yes." Merrill added, bluntly.

"And the glaring?"

"He looks at everyone like that. Well, except Hawke. Oh, and Aveline, Varric, Sebastian—he only sometimes does it to Isabela! So no, I suppose, just me and Anders and now you, too!" Merrill added in a chipper tone. "You should see how he gets when Hawke looks at him and then looks away, though! Ooh, he gets these sad puppy eyes! It sometimes makes me forget how mean he is!"

He stopped in his tracks and turned abruptly towards them. "Stop speaking of me as if I am not here!", he barked. "And if I have looked at you at all, _Templar_, it's because you do not belong here!" He watched as Keran balked in response to his words, before he quickly turned around and continued forward. "There are _no_puppy eyes." He added suddenly, with irritation.

After a moment of silence he heard Merrill whisper, "He does have puppy eyes."

"I'm here for Hawke, that's reason enough to _belong_here." Keran replied, defensively. "Clearly, you're upset, we all..."

He rounded on the Templar, until he was inches from his face, and fumed with abhorrence. "You haven't seen me upset!"

Titan growled with menace and Keran gestured for the war hound to be still as he peered back into Fenris's eyes, unfazed by his proximity as he responded calmly. "Go back to Hawke, boy!" Titan whimpered, but then obeyed and turned racing off in the direction of the Keeper's tent. Keran waited a moment and then spoke with cool dignity. "I am here to help someone that matters greatly to me—I care just as much about her as you do."

"Do not compare yourself to me or presume to know my feelings for Hawke!" Fenris narrowed his eyes with disgust. "You know _nothing_of me!" He turned his back to the boy and continued forward trying to gather his composure. His patience was growing thinner by the second.

"I know enough." Keran muttered under his breath. "And you're a fool that doesn't deserve her."

He whipped back around, his tattoo's blaring brightly. "What did you say?" he seethed.

Keran straightened his stature and peered back at him boldly. "I _said_—You're. A. Fool!"

In an instant, his sword was drawn, its sharpened point digging into the Templar's neck. He watched as a small trickle of blood dripped down the boy's neck. "You were saying, _Templar_?"

Keran stared back at him, composed, his chest calmly rising and falling. "Why, you?" he whispered, his voice choked with disbelief as he glared defiantly back at him.

His eyes flickered in confusion at Keran's response.

"You have _never_deserved her." Keran added, his eyes glistening with frustration and pain.

He was so confounded by the boys' response that he was caught completely off guard as the rooted tendrils grabbed a hold of him, encasing him whole. His sword was pulled free from the boys' neck and pressed vertically against his chest. He struggled, in vain, and then roared out in fury. "Release me, witch!"

"Enough! Both of you!" Merrill screamed.

He glanced over and noticed that Keran was also caged by her vines.

"If you have both forgotten, Hawke is dying! Right now is not the time to be arguing like wee children over which of you is more _in love _with Hawke!" He and Karen locked eyes for an instant and then quickly broke contact. "Am I the only one trying to actually help keep her alive?" She looked at them both pointedly, took a deep breath and continued. "I'm going to release you now, but Creator's help me, you had better listen to me! Fenris, the pond is right on the other side of this hill—wash up! Keran, help me find the marigolds, they should be right around here!" She paused and scrunched her forehead into a scowl before finally releasing her roots' hold on them.

He took a deep breath and then fastened his sword to his back. "Try that again and it will be the last thing that you ever do." He threatened, glaring at Merrill, before turning his back to them.

He moved with haste around the hill and sighed, grateful to be removed from them both. The buzzing of insects filled the quiet night as he splashed the water onto his chest and arms, feeling as the dried blood turned sticky and then rinsed off of him. As he cleaned himself off, his mind trailed off into the stars, reflecting back at him in the stagnant pond water, and he thought of Aven's twinkling blue eyes, her contagious smile, and captivating laughter. He couldn't imagine a world vacant of those things, of _her_. Life, such a fleeting thing; all of this time distant from her had been a mistake, a waste. He decided then, if—_when_she awoke, he would tell her exactly how he felt about her.

"Merrill, I think I found some!" Keran's voice echoed, in the distance.

"Yes! That's them!" Merrill exclaimed, with excitement. "Oh, Keran, I could just kiss you! Let's hurry back!"

He quickly splashed his chest once more and then his face, before standing up and moving towards the shadowed figures.

"Fenris, we found them!" He heard Merrill, exclaim in the distance.

"Go, I'm right behind you!" He shouted back to them.

He watched as the darkened figures disappeared out of view and he moved hastily forward with renewed hope. If Hawke made it through this—_when_she made it through this, he was going to tell her, somehow, that he never again wanted to be apart from her.

He reached the tent, and stepped through. Anders was already grinding up the flower into a paste, when suddenly, Hawke moaned. The room fell silent, watching her with anticipation, when her lips parted and breathlessly whispered. _"Anders."_ His breath caught in his throat and he glanced up towards Anders, who sat silently paralyzed, just as shocked to hear her utter his name when, suddenly, she deliriously mumbled it again. _"Anders."_

Anders quickly set down the bowl in his hand and ran his fingers through her hair. "Hawke, I'm here! Hawke, Hawke, Hawke?" He then leaned in towards her, his lips brushing against her forehead, as he attempted to coax her awake, his voice thick with anguish. "Aven?" He pulled back, his hands bracing both sides of her face as he called out her name "AVEN!" Her eyes fluttered open, in response, and she tried to move, which caused her to cry out in pain. Anders pressed her chest down, directly above the wrappings that covered her breasts, forcing her to be still as he peered down at her with relief. "Thank the Maker, you're awake—don't try to move!"

He stood still, in a numb stupor, trying to make sense of what had just happened when, suddenly, Anders glanced up at him, his eyes creased and twinkling in a triumphant smile.


	28. Part 28 Anders

**ANDERS**

Anders held his breath as Hawke blinked her eyes, adjusting to the light."Where am I?" she asked, groggily.

"Keeper Marithari's tent." He said gazing down at her with relief.

"What?" She asked, her eyelashes fluttering wildly, as she fought to adjust to her disorientation. "Why?" she stated, confused, attempting to sit up once more. She froze immediately, her face turning bright red as a groan escaped her lips in response to her exertion.

He gently pushed down on her shoulder, "Just stay still, Hawke; you are badly wounded."

Her forehead creased in confusion and then softened as a look of remembrance settled into her expression. "…The Varterral." He nodded, softly, as he gazed down into her deep blue eyes.

Merrill rushed to her side and cupped Hawke's hand within hers, forcing her eyes to leave his. "Hawke, I am so sorry—this is _all _my fault!"

Hawke shook her head softly. "No, Merrill, it's no one's fault but my o…" Hawke's voice cut off as she winced against the pain.

"Don't speak, Lethelan." Merrill whispered as she caressed Hawke's hand.

"I'm fine, it was just a spasm." Hawke added, unconvincingly, through gritted teeth.

Titan stood from where he was seated, at her side, and licked her exposed feet as Anders moved his hand over her wound. He was surprised to find that the short interlude of rest time, that he had taken since she had awoke, had been enough time to restore most of his mana. He cast one of his more powerful healing spells and her body immediately relaxed in response to the sensation.

Her gaze moved back to his, reflecting her gratitude, and he saw himself smiling back at her through the reflection of her beautiful eyes. She studied him for a moment and then, quite suddenly, her eyes turned to a hard midnight blue. "You weren't there." She stated, softly, in barely more than a whisper. It felt like an accusation and his smile dropped as he broke away from her gaze, nodding once with remorseful acknowledgement. He could feel her eyes boring into his as he focused in on her wound, but he couldn't find the courage to meet them again.

At last she broke the silence and spoke. "How—did I get here?"

He glanced up at Fenris and Merrill answered before he could. "Fenris rushed you to the Keeper."

He glanced back down and his gut twisted into knots as he watched her face light up,"Where is he?" she asked, her eyes roaming over Merrill's shoulder in search of him.

"I am here." Fenris stated, as he moved to her side so that he was in her peripheral view.

A soft smile spread across her lips, causing her eyes to sparkle. "Thank you." She whispered softly up to him.

A slight smile lifted on his cheek in return, and the two just stared silently into each other eyes. It was as if they were oblivious that there was anyone else in the room. He tried to look away from them, and focus in on channeling another healing spell, but it didn't help. It felt as though time was standing still, torturing him slowly as he was forced to witness their intimate exchange.

"And the Varterral?" Hawke asked, at last, breaking the stagnant silence in the room.

"Vanquished." Fenris replied, without a pause, his eyes not once blinking away from hers.

Her eyes reluctantly left Fenris's and roamed over his armor. "Were you—injured?"

Fenris glanced down at his chest, and then once again met her gaze as he softly shook his head. "I am not injured."

Anders couldn't help but wonder, with irritation, why Fenris had even bothered to return before properly rinsing off. No one had brought water back either, which he still desperately needed.

Hawke glanced down at her wound and her face drained of what little color had been restored. "Oh." She added, softly.

"It would seem that we are not going to be able to read that book, after all." Fenris added, pulling her attention away from her wound and back to him.

The memory of Hawke in her black robe, seated next to Fenris by the fireplace as she read aloud to him, rushed back into his mind, causing his jaw to clench as he fought against the surge of envious enmity that coursed throughout his body.

Hawke's lips parted into a large smile, her eyes twinkling as she responded. "I should have brought it with me."

Fenris's smile deepened on his cheek. "Yes..." he said, arching his left eyebrow "If only you had known." he replied, with playful amusement.

Hawke giggled, in response, and then winced against the pain.

Watching them flirt was making him feel physically ill. "Perhaps you could fetch it, when you go to retrieve her Mother. I seem to recall a promise that you made to Aveline… shouldn't you be taking care of that?" He tried to sound nonchalant, but he was too exhausted to mask the magnitude of his annoyance.

Fenris reluctantly tore his gaze from Hawke's and then narrowed his eyes back at him as he responded, "Yes…" he then quickly turned back towards Hawke and his expression softened. "Perhaps I can read it to you, when I return—if you're feeling up to it?"

"You're leaving—now?" The disappointment in her tone, as she replied to Fenris, made his heart feel as though it were being squeezed tightly within his chest.

"I must. I promised Aveline and your Mother that I would go straight away if…" he cut himself off and straightened his posture. "Once you awoke."

Hawke took a deep breath and bit her lip against the pain. "My Mother was here? She must be going mad with worry. How long was I—asleep?"

"Six _very _long hours." Keran interjected.

"A grin stretched across her face. "Keran?" When he moved into her view, her smile widened. "How…?"

A boyish grin lit up his face. "The tranquil mage at the Gallows, remembered me from when you had placed the order for that robe the other day." he said, gesturing towards the garment that Anders was now wearing (her gift to him). "She stopped me in the market place to let me know that she had finished. I figured that it would give me an excuse to stop in and see you, so I delivered it personally. I just happened upon the Guard Captain as she was giving your Mother the news." His face dropped with the memory.

Hawke studied his expression and then lamented, "Maker, my Mother must be a complete mess!"

Keran nodded, softly. "It did take some convincing from the Guard Captain, to get her to leave."

"I will go to her now, Hawke." Fenris, asserted.

The way Hawke looked back at Fenris filled him with bitter agony. Her eyes flickered and a soft smile creased her beautiful face as she responded. "Thank you, Fenris." She paused with slight hesitation and then continued, "Will you come back with them?"

Fenris nodded once, without removing his eyes from hers and the two continued, once again, to gaze intimately into each other's eyes. He so desperately wanted to get up and leave the tent and get some space. He needed to breathe in the fresh air and clear his mind, but he couldn't leave her side. So he remained still, speculating in anguish as to how much longer he was going to have to endure this torture.

He watched as Fenris reluctantly tore his eyes from Hawke's, before turning his back to her and making his way out of the tent. He attempted to gulp down the knot that was stuck in his throat, with no avail. A week away from her had not prepared him for this. Watching her interact with Fenris and knowing, undoubtedly, that he had been right all along, was a painfully harrowing experience. The truth had been there, in the back of his mind, all along; he had just never allowed himself to believe it. He could see now, that he had been clinging to a futile hope.

Clearly, things were not over between her and Fenris, despite her insistence that they were. He did not believe that Hawke had purposefully deceived him nor did he believe that she was the type to be intimate with two men at the same time. Either she did not know the extent of Fenris's affection for her, or they had rekindled their relationship within the week that he had been absent from her life. Either way, his heart ached at the thought.

He could see now, that spending that time apart from her had been a mistake. He had thought that, if he stayed away from her, he could find a way to move past her painful rejection. But as the days drew on, the pain began to magnify instead of lessen. Her persistent messages certainly didn't help. It merely kept the memory of her fresh in his mind, torturing him further in his solitude. Within the past few days he had actually been contemplating the idea of relinquishing their friendship completely. The pain had felt too deep, too close to the surface to ever go back to being just friends again. His feelings for her were still just as intense.

However, over the past few hours as he had been struggling to heal her, and had watched in agony as she had fought for her life, he had found himself changing his perspective entirely. He realized now that he had let her rejection take root and fester into a selfish and petty decision. Because of that choice, he had not been there when she had needed him most and, she had almost died. He loved her too much; it had been foolish of him to believe that he would ever be capable of dismissing her from his life. He would never be ready to lose her. He would do whatever it took to be a part of her life, even if that meant standing at her side as a friend instead of a lover.

"Merrill, see if you can get some ironbark from Master Illen or, if need be, find some. She needs something for the pain. Also, I still need water. Perhaps you can go with her and help, Keran?"

He looked up and caught Keran studying him, before he nodded slightly in acknowledgement to him. "Anything for Hawke."

Hawke lifted her lips into a grin at Keran and he watched, with annoyance, as Keran smiled in return, holding her gaze with obvious longing. It had been bad enough that he had been forced to endure Hawke's and Fenris's exchanges, without having to be witness to this young Templar's infatuation with her too.

"We'll be back in a minute, Hawke", Merrill stated, as she gently released her grasp on Hawke's hand.

As Merrill arose, Keran moved next to her. He watched, perplexed, as Hawke's war hound stood on all fours and joined Keran at his side. He had never seen Hawke's Mabari leave her side for anyone before.

"You should stay boy, and keep Hawke company." Karen said as he leaned over and gathered Titan's ears to his hands, while kneading behind them with his fingertips.

"No, it's alright, Titan, you can go!" Hawke replied, in a loving tone. Titan barked with excitement and Hawke laughed, causing her to grimace in response to the pain.

"I really need that ironbark!" Anders proclaimed, impatiently, while focusing another large heal on her side.

"You heard him boy." Keran stated playfully, while cocking his head to the side as he peered down at Hawke's Mabari. "Let's go find some things to make Hawke feel better!"

He watched with aggravation as the dog responded to him. Titan was far too familiar with Keran. Hawke had definitely not heeded to his warnings of steering clear of the Templar and, in fact, it would appear that she had done the very opposite and that they had been spending quite a bit of time together. The thought greatly bothered him. It was unnerving to have a Templar in his presence, even a half Templar merely infatuated with Hawke. He skeptically followed the boy until he had exited the tent, and then glanced down at Hawke. Her stare was fixated on him, which caught him off guard, and he quickly glanced away. Other than the gentle humming of his spell, silence filled the room.

After some length, she spoke, breaking the stifling silence between them. "Do you like the robe?" she asked.

He stared intently at her wound as he channeled his spell, too cowardice to make eye contact with her. "It's exquisite; thank you." There was another long silence and then he continued. "I would say that you shouldn't have, but it's helping strengthen my spells and mana regeneration, exponentially. It's perfect, really. "He didn't dare look up at her, he knew that her eyes were studying him and he still didn't have the strength to meet her probing gaze.

After another long pause, she spoke, frustration obvious in her tone. "If I had given it to you, instead of Keran, and I wasn't _damaged_, would you still have liked it?"

He glanced up at her, suddenly realizing how ungrateful his response had sounded. "_Yes_." He implored, softly. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean it that way. It's a wonderful gift-I just meant that it's an added bonus that it's also a tremendous healing tool, especially given the circumstances." She stared back at him, searching his eyes and he glanced away. Staring into the deep blue of her mesmerizing eyes, brought back too many memories of their night together; it was still too fresh, too heart achingly painful.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" He could hear the sadness in her tone and his heart clenched.

"You know why." He hadn't intended to sound bitter, but it had certainly manifested in his tone.

"No, I don't!" Hawke shot back, surprising him. She flinched against the pain, from the exertion of her comment, and he cast another long spell, pretending to act as though he were concentrating hard in order to gather his thoughts.

He waited until his spell had finished and then responded, quietly. "Aven, I poured my heart out to you, and you just sat there and said nothing."

"You asked to move in with me; I didn't expect that, I was caught off guard!" He was surprised by the magnitude of her frustration and could feel his own bitterness rising to the surface. "Besides, you didn't exactly give me a chance! You got angry at me, left, and when I _did _try to communicate with you, you ignored me! How could you treat me like that, especially right after we…?"

He could tell that she was in both physical and emotional pain, but he couldn't keep himself from exploding. All of these thoughts and feelings had been pushed down and forced dormant for far too long. "I told you that I loved you!" He exclaimed, with frustration. "Do you know how hard that was for me?" He paused and searched her eyes while softly shaking his head. "I've never said that to _anyone_!" He inhaled deeply, and ran his fingers through his hair. "Maker, you can't possibly understand how agonizingly painful it feels to be madly in love with someone and then suddenly realize that they don't love you back!"

Her face softened for a second but then stubbornly scrunched back up in vexation. "That's hardly fair, Anders! You've had three years to realize your feelings for me; I've only had a few short weeks!"

He scoffed. "You've had three years too; you just chose to ignore it!" He paused slightly, then continued in the same breath. "Aven, you can't tell me that deep down inside, you didn't know!" He added with equal frustration.

She balked in response and her piercing gaze flickered, then slowly softened, and he knew that she was seriously considering the truth of his words. "I…"

He cut her off, but spoke in a much gentler tone. "You chose to be blind... and I chose to fight it; I just didn't fight it hard enough." He sighed deeply. "You gave me hope; you made me believe that we were possible…" He searched her eyes with anguish. "That night that I came to you… _I _thought that we were making love." He wearily pulled his eyes from her gaze. "I've never shared that kind of intimacy with anyone."

There was a torturously aching long silence, and then she spoke, softly. "Before I awoke, I was dreaming of you." His eyes shot back to her in surprise. "We were having this same conversation… only, it went a whole lot better."

He paused, thinking about the way that she had called out to him before she had awoken. "Better—how?"

"You forgave me... and then we…" She trailed off and broke eye contact, turning her head away from him, and he instantly wondered what she was holding back. "I never meant to hurt you!" She stated, her eyes turning back to his, gazing up at him, with unquestioning sincerity. "I care about you so deeply." She emphasized. "I'm just so confused… and—_tired_—so very tired."

He sighed and then focused another heal on her, using the opportunity to break eye contact with her. "You should rest, then."

"_No_" she enforced. "I mean... I'm so tired of being confused! I don't know how I'm supposed to feel anymore!" She sounded so utterly defeated and heavy laden.

Anguish creased in lines upon her face, causing his gut to twist into knots. He knew that she was telling the truth, that she was conflicted over her feelings and trying to make sense of them. He wanted to be hopeful that those feelings were over him, but he knew better. This experience had really opened his eyes to things that he had not wanted to see. He brushed her hair away from her face, brought his lips to her forehead, and then pulled away and gazed into her eyes. "You called out to me, before you awoke… was that a part of your dream?"

"Yes." She responded softly, without hesitation.

He sighed deeply and then whispered, "Aven, I love you; I will always love you." He was no longer hoping for a response, he didn't need one. "I will never leave you again. I will be here, no matter what, regardless of any choice that you make..." He paused and then added, "Even if that choice isn't me." Her eyes began to glisten and he paused slightly and caressed her cheek before continuing. "The thought of losing you—it was unbearable." A single tear escaped her eye and slid down her cheek. He brushed it gently away with his thumb, watching as her full red lips trembled as she struggled to hold back the impending tears.

"Kiss me." She choked out, in a whisper.

He hadn't been expecting her request, but he didn't hesitate to obey. He moved his mouth down to hers, moving his lips against hers with gentle tenderness. Her lips quivered against the sensation and more tears released, trailing down her soft cheeks. He tasted the saltiness of her tears as they flowed down her face, gathering within the crevices of their joined lips, and then continued to sweetly caress the voluptuous curves of her mouth. He cupped her face in his palms, as he gingerly deepened their kiss, pouring the magnitude of his love into every careful motion. He delicately pulled on the bottom of her lip, until its silky plumpness was inside the warmth of his mouth, and a soft sigh escaped her lips.

"Ahem."

Caught off guard by the sound, he abruptly pulled away from Hawke. Keran was standing above him, staring down at them, his eyes shifting inquisitively between him and Hawke with a mixture of shock and dismay. "We have the ironbark." He finally stated, with despondency.

"And the water!" Merrill chimed in as she appeared at Keran's side from behind him.


	29. Part 29 Isabela

**ISABELA**

The slight break of sunshine and warm weather was gone and replaced, once again, with a grey dreary sky that cast a heavy, gloom filled shadow. Only one day prior, had the exact spot that she was standing on now, radiated with warm soft yellows and lush inviting greens. The looming winter chill nipped at her skin, sending goose bumps up her arms and Isabela cursed out loud. "Maker, I hate this blasted weather!" She sighed with frustration. "I long for the ocean!" She added, emphasizing a deep need and yearning. "She's strong and beautiful and wonderfully inconsistent! You never know, from one day to the next, what she will have to offer. One day, she will coddle you like a sweet and gentle lover and then the next; lash out at you like a wild and ferocious fire breathing dragon! Every day is an adventure in her arms, but here..." Repulse filled her tone. "Maker, we have months of this shit and it's only going to get worse!"

Hawke smiled sympathetically and replied. "But then Spring always comes."

She noted the obvious chatter in Hawke's response and realized that, despite her optimistic response, she too was miserably cold. Hawke was typically dressed in her armor, thin leather layered on top of small intricate pieces of chainmail, but today she was in nothing more than cotton trousers and a bodice. No wonder she was shivering, she was used to wearing a thicker, heavier, garment. Not to mention that her body was already working overtime to repair her wound. Isabela moved in next to her and wrapped her arms around her, brushing her hand in a quick repetitive motion over Hawke's arm, to ward off the cold. She was beginning to wonder if it were such a great idea to take her back to her estate today, when she suddenly spotted Drake's towering form, at Karan's side, as the two rounded the corner towards them. A smirk lifted on her face, and she instantly dismissed the idea entirely.

"Well, well, look who it is." She stated quietly, more to herself than to Hawke.

Hawke chuckled lightly. "Can you blame him?"

She turned her head towards Hawke and grinned with pleasure. "Of course not—did you know?"

Hawke shook her head softly. "Keran made no mention of it."

Even clad in plated armor, she could still perfectly visualize his long muscular form. She watched enthralled as he moved towards them with casual confidence. She had almost forgotten how magnificently self-assured he was. "What a delicious turn of events. It would seem that my day is certainly beginning to look up." She cocked her head to the side and winked at Hawke, "No offense Hawke. I'm just as happy as the rest of our silly little group, that you are on the mend, but acting as your escort back to Kirkwall wasn't exactly on my list of eventful things to do."

"You're not mad then?" Hawke asked, surprised.

"Mad?" She shook her head at the absurdity of Hawke's question. "Of course not."

"But—you've been avoiding him." Hawke replied, her blue eyes probing into hers as her forehead wrinkled in confusion.

"Yes—and it's actually quite annoying that it's taken him this long to take the initiative." She added with a minor inflection of irritation. "No matter, here he is and still firmly wrapped around my tiny little finger." She added, as she wagged her eyebrows playfully at Hawke, while massaging the base of her pinky.

"How do you do it?" Hawke asked, suddenly.

"Do what, love?"

"Stay so completely unattached?" She asked, her tone teetering between perplexity and seriousness.

"Simple. I keep it strictly at sex; none of that emotional… _feelings_shit." she added, with a ting of repulse. She studied Hawke, eyeing her distant, deep in thought, expression. "Having men troubles, Hawke?" She asked, lightheartedly.

Hawke snapped out of her thoughts and sighed deeply. "You don't know the half of it." She mumbled.

She had initially been surprised when, not soon after her arrival to the Dalish camp, she had first observed the unmistaken tension between Anders and Hawke. Irritated, at first, that the gossip had not made it back to her, but even more so intrigued that Anders had somehow managed to tear himself away from his drawling mages rights antics, long enough to bed her. She didn't have to wonder what was amiss between them long, before Fenris had appeared with a book for Hawke. She had never been in a room that had felt so uncomfortably small. The tension radiating off of all three of them had almost been unbearable, even for her, had she not been equally amused by the scene.

"Let me guess… it has something to do with a certain sexy and fiercely broody Tevinter elf?" She inhaled softly and continued. "With intense_smoldering_ green eyes and a hard, _taught_, warrior's body." She bit her lip and grinned to herself at the thought of Fenris's bare lyrium covered chest. "_Or_…" she added with inflection "Is it the _very_ moody rebel mage, who glows blue when Templars are near?" She lifted her left eyebrow and conceded "And, _surprisingly_, happens to be hiding a rather nice body under that robe of his."

Hawke wrinkled her eyebrows back at her, a mixture of confusion and surprise flickering in her bright blue eyes. "How do you know what's under his robe?"

She ignored her question. "The half abomination it is!"

"No! I mean, yes—sort of—it's _complicated_!" She sighed heavily and dropped her eyes to her feet. "Don't—don't call him that." She added softly.

She ignored Hawke's obvious discomfort over the subject, and continued whimsically musing to herself. How Hawke could be torn up between Fenris and Anders was beyond her. The choice was simple, in her opinion. Who could possibly prefer a simpering mage, over a dark and tempestuous elf between their thighs? She was still fantasizing over the tingling feeling of Fenris's lyrium infused skin against her tongue—_and_ his body's reaction to the sensation. "I think—it's _both_of them." She added, coyly.

Hawke glanced back at her sheepishly and then quickly broke eye contact.

She laughed heartily and shook her head. "You've certainly been busy these past few months!" Hawke sighed deeply, clearly burdened by her thoughts. "Let me guess, Anders is in love with you and crying it from the mountain tops, while Fenris is—well—Fenris; broody, closed off, distant…."

"Something like that." Hawke muttered, cutting her off, clearly trying to emphasize that she wanted to change the subject.

Hawke peered silently off into the distance and as if suddenly forgetting her worries for a moment, an endearing smile lit up her face. Isabela turned in the direction of Hawke's smile, just in time to catch Keran's grin widen back at Hawke. He and Drake were now not more than a hundred feet away from them.

A crooked grin crept upon her cheek with sudden realization. "Oh… have I missed someone?" Hawke's eye suddenly locked with hers in confusion. "We can't forget the boyishly sweet, lovesick, handsome, Templar-to-be, now can we?" She smirked. "Juggling three men Hawke?" She made a playful tsk, tsk sound. "I never took you for the type."

Hawke stared at her dumbfounded and then shook her head. "Isabela, you have it all wrong—and…" she fumbled for words "Keran's just…" Before she could finish, Keran quickly closed the distance between them and lifted Hawke into his arms.

Hawke winced and Keran quickly pulled away. "Maker, I'm sorry—too hard?"

"It's still tender." Hawke replied, her facial expression twisted in pain.

He pulled her back into his chest, gently, and Hawke's face immediately softened. Hawke glanced over at her and Isabela grinned satirically back at her. Hawke quickly looked away and a knowing smile deepened on her cheek. She could feel the warmth of Drake's gaze on her and slowly turned, a seductive grin replacing her astute smirk, as she locked into his light green eyes.

"Isabela." He stated, while bowing his head, without breaking eye contact with her. He then politely turned towards Hawke. "Sera Hawke."

"What a surprise." She replied coquettishly, pulling Drake's gaze back to her.

"Ah, yes, as you can see Drake is with me today." Keran interjected. "The Knight Captain did not approve of me traveling the Wounded Coast alone. It was the price I had to pay for the pleasure of your company, Hawke." He said smiling sweetly down at her. "I had no choice but to bring him." Keran added while flashing his friend a teasing grin. "I hope that's alright?"

Hawke smiled. "Of course—it's nice to see you again Drake. The more the merrier, right Isabela?"

She deliberately turned her gaze from Drake to Keran and smiled suggestively back at him. "Absolutely, I always prefer two men over one, especially when they are both so strong and…" she paused, slightly, as she bit her lip and roamed her eyes freely over his form, adding with purposeful accentuation "_capable_." She batted her eyelashes and Keran's cheeks immediately blushed pink.

Hawke's smile faded as she watched his reaction, her body language unconsciously answering the impending question on Isabela's mind, as she quickly stepped out of Keran's arms. Perhaps it was unwise to provoke Hawke merely to sate her curiosity, but she couldn't resist. Even though Hawke had seemed genuinely happy to see her, and their conversations had carried on over the past few days, as if eight weeks of silence had not lapsed between them, they hadn't exactly cleared things up.

"Where's Titan?" Keran asked, quickly changing subjects in attempt to regain his composure. His eyes searched over zealously, amidst the Dalish camp, in search of any sign of the War Hound.

"I sent him back with Anders early this morning." Hawke replied, sullenly.

Keran laughed, evidently, unaware of the change in Hawke's mood. "I'm sure that he loved that!"

"Well… he does prefer cats." Hawke replied, a bit guarded.

"I was talking about Titan." Keran replied, sportively, and Isabela watched as Hawke's polite smile slowly faded.

Keran's face dropped, suddenly aware of Hawke's response to his casual farce. He cautiously studied her and then carefully looped his arm around her waist. "Are you ready to go then?" He asked, hesitantly.

She skeptically eyed his arm around her. "Yes, but I am quite capable of walking by myself." She replied, mildly attempting to free herself from his grasp.

His grin widened and he pulled her in tighter next to him, dropping his voice an octave lower as he spoke with jovial mockery. "But my Lady, I beseech you to comply! I truly believe it to be in your _very _best interest, that I hold you close and keep you safe!" He flashed her a playful smoldering look and Hawke burst into laughter, but then instantly recoiled in pain. "See... now I must insist." He added, his voice wavering with concern. "Hawke...?"

Hawke glanced sideways at him and giggled. "Clearly, it's only necessary if you make me laugh!" She added, lightening the mood once more.

"Then I shall never cease to make you laugh!" He replied, with a wink.

Their flirtatious exchange was so sickeningly sweet that she wondered if Hawke truly was oblivious to how completely enamored that the boy was with her. She was so entranced by Hawke and Keran's entertaining exchange, that she had almost forgotten Drake's presence until he spoke, pulling her attention back to him.

"You have been avoiding me." He whispered, so that only she could hear.

Her eyes snapped back to his and she grinned. "I would have to have seen you to avoid you."

"Are we ready then?" Keran asked, glancing between her and Drake. He waited for them both to nod in acknowledgement before setting off ahead of them, while still supporting Hawke gently around her waist.

They moved forward onto the path that led out of the Dalish camp and after a moment of silence, Drake spoke again. "Then you are ignoring me."

She followed Keran and Hawke's forms, not bothering to make eye contact with him as she replied. "No; it's much simpler than that. I've just been busy."

There was another long stretch of silence before Drake grabbed onto her wrist and came to a sudden halt, forcing her to stop and look at him. "Isabela, I must know…" he implored; his expression clearly betraying the magnitude of his confusion. "Do I no longer hold your interest?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "You could assume that." His light green eyes flickered and his gaze dropped to the ground. A slight grin crept upon her face and she continued. "But then… you would be wrong."

His eyes shot back up to hers in surprise, before trailing down to the smirk on her face, and he paused, studying her expression. "You are toying with me."

Her grin widened. "Was that a question?"

He moved in close to her and wrapped his right arm around her waist, pulling her hips in next to his. He focused in on her eyes, his desire permeating in the depths if his gaze as he whispered huskily back to her. "No."

He tipped his head down towards hers and brushed his lips gently against hers before softly nipping at the bottom of her lip. Just as she thought that he was going to deepen their kiss, he pulled away from her and began to walk forward, leaving her slightly stunned. She quickly recovered, however, and smiled as she watched, beguiled, as he moved forward without glancing back at her. She began moving forward again, not bothering to quicken her pace enough to catch up to him. After a moment, he ceased in his tracks and waited until she was at his side.

"You play this game far too well, my dear." He stated, rigidly, his eyes focused squarely in front of him.

She turned her gaze to him, an impish grin lifting on her cheek. "What game would that be?"

He ignored her question, his eyes still focused on the path before him. "A single day has not passed that I have not thought of you."

His confession held a dark and ardent tone, which caused her body to stir in response, and her lips curled at the corners. "Hmm… do tell me about these—_thoughts_." She purred.

At last, he turned towards her. His green eyes were intense and lascivious as he peered silently into the depths of her eyes. She held his gaze, daring him to continue, when Hawke suddenly cried out. Instinctually, Isabela tore her gaze away from his, only to find that the sound was merely Hawke's pained laughter. Keran was attempting to wrap Hawke's legs around his waist in piggy back fashion, but was having difficulty in his armor. Normally, she would have laughed at the scene, but she was more irritated, than anything, that their frivolousness had pulled her attention away from Drake at such a moment. She glanced to the side and eyed a small path that led down towards the ocean.

"I feel like getting _wet_… care to join me?"

Drake glanced back at her in surprise and then quickly perceived her meaning and grinned back at her in response. She nodded in the direction of the ocean and his smile quickly faded."I think… that the water will be too cold." He replied with sudden apprehension.

"Nonsense. The trick is simple… submerge yourself as quickly as possible." She arched her eyebrow and then winked at him before dropping her eyes, below his waist. His eyebrows lifted in response and she turned her back to him, taking the detour off of the path and leaving him behind. She stopped, only shortly, to unlace her boots and remove them. Her toes suck into the sand and she released a light sigh of pleasure as the soft granules seeped between her toes. She continued forward, basking in the contouring sensation as she continued down the path. She was more than half way down the hill, her fingers mindlessly unknotting the shawl around her waist, when she heard Keran's exclamation.

"Are you bloody mad? The water will be ice cold!"

She chuckled to herself. She was too distant from the rest of their little party to hear how well Drake was doing in his persuasion to Keran and Hawke. She didn't care; she was far too determined. She no longer felt the cold nip of the biting winter air; she felt warm and tingling, driven forward by the seductive siren call of the ocean's gentle waves and the pungent smell of its salty spray. She had one thing on her mind, and no longer held the patience to wait for it. Besides, wasn't it probably for the best that they took a break—for Hawke's sake?

She waited at the edge of the ocean's reach, its frothy waves teasing her as they lapped playfully at her toes. Her feet slowly sunk into the wet sand as she waited impatiently for the rest of the group. Drake appeared at the top of the hill and smiled seductively down at her as he moved with haste towards her. She unlaced her tunic as Drake hurriedly shed his armor, leaving the shiny silver plated pieces strewn throughout the sandy path in his wake. Just as she was wondering if he had simply given up on Hawke and Keran, they appeared at the top of the hill.

She grinned and then freed herself of her last restricting garment, exposing her naked body to the cool ocean breeze, while in perfect view of the entire group. Both Drake and Keran stopped dead in their tracks, and a devilish smirk lifted on her cheek before she turned and dove into the ocean's depths. The cold water assaulted her with the feeling of thousands of tiny needles, all at once, piercing deep into her flesh. The sensation paralyzed her temporarily, but then released its hold on her, allowing her the necessary mobility to push her face above the water's surface.

"ANDRASTE'S FLAMING CUNT!" She screamed out, as she struggled in vain to control her convulsing body.

She caught a glimpse of Drake's impeccable bare ass, before it disappeared beneath the hungry waves. Within a moment his head bobbed up near her, his green eyes flashing wildly in a shocked response to the frigid temperature. He spotted her and swam quickly towards her, instantly pulling her in against his naked body.

"Your trick did not work!" He said through chattering teeth, while cupping her face and planting a forceful kiss on the lips. "Let us quickly move over there." He said gesturing towards the peninsula's bend.

He released her and swam hastily to the rock formation, pushing his back against the hardened structure, while reaching his arm out to her and pulling her in tightly against him. He rubbed her body against his own, his hands quickly moving over the curves of her form, more for the need to create warmth through friction than actual desire. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he gradually slowed his searching hands, taking his time to properly explore every inch and curve of her naked skin. Heat suddenly flooded deep within her and she no longer noticed anything other than the feeling of his tight muscular body rubbing hard against her own. She deepened their kiss, their tongues moving in perfect motion with the rolling waves, as her hands wandered gradually down south past his abdomen.

A sultry smile stretched across her face, forcing her to pull away from their heated kiss. "It would appear that you've warmed up; it's time to show you the rest of my trick."

(Isabela, Keran, Fenris, Anders, Dragon Age Universe ©Bioware)


End file.
